No Regrets
by Sporkey Anonymous
Summary: BIG REVAMP.It seems to be an emotional roller coaster for our favorite Turtle, and the introduction of someone new makes it all the worse. Will the Turtles risk exposure, or even death? Takes place in the Movieverse. :3 OMIGOD! Chapter 8, plus a bonus!
1. Rain, Movies, and Martial Arts

**Author's Note:** Re-did a whole chunk of this chapter. I really didn't like how it came across, so I changed it. Tell me what you think! Did I mention that this is based off the Movie-verse? This story, in it's whole, is an NC-17 rating, but I toned it down to put it here. Hopefully I can find a way to show you the unedited version, but I dunno how yet, LOL. Thanks again for all the comments:3 Oh, and just to clarify something – ppl speak Japanese in this, and so you dun get confused, text will be put in "(())" when ppl are speaking in Japanese.

Rating: PG-13, for violence and language. :3

**Chapter One: Rain, Movies, and Martial Arts**

He watched with sleep heavy eyes as the bright movie screen flickered in front of him, leaning a leather-padded elbow on the plastic armrest of his chair, his green palm cupping his chin. Hidden behind the worn out red of his thin mask was a jaded expression, the movie unable to hold his attention as his thoughts drifted. Hearing the shuffle of someone squeezing down his isle, the Turtle quickly tucked his chin into this chest and tipped his hat downward, his gesture being more secretive than polite as he grunted out a reply, barely hearing an embarrassed apology from the two people who scooted passed him. With a twist of his thumb and forefinger he flipped his coat collar up, the tips of his neckpiece peeking out in his peripheral vision just above his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye he followed the couple's dark outline, their silhouette fading as they moved to the far end of his row, the young man setting what looked like a large buttered popcorn in his lap while he wrapped an arm around his female partner's shoulder.

The Turtle sighed.

He had found that over the pasted few months, he had been visiting this theater often, but the movies he attended didn't interest him in the least. Sappy, over-dramatic romance films were never his favorite, neither were those gory, horror movies about psychos stalking beautiful women. He realized he had been coming to these movies to watch the _people_, specifically the couples that like these movies. How their behavior fascinated him, how they took their freedom to be with another gender, another lover so lightly…it amazed him, it _bothered_ him.

Oh, but how he envied them.

He would never say such a thing out loud of course, or ever speak to one of his brothers about it. This feeling was even difficult to admit to himself at first, for he needed no one…or so he made it seem. With the name Raphael came the obligation to be the loner; the outsider. But he was sick of that title. The thought of having someone, a special someone…to hold, to talk to…the idea really appealed to him.

Briefly his eyes tore away from the couple, glancing coldly at the theater screen as a man with a knife chased a big-busted girl through the corridors of a large empty house, causing Raphael to snort insensibly before turning back to watch the couple's reaction. The girl shrank into her male friend's arms, oblivious to the eyeful she gave him as her cleavage pushed up against his body, an excited smile curving his lips. Slowly he crept a hand up her thigh, the girl gradually realizing the innocent passes he was making at her before pressing her lips against his, performing a hormonal dance that was anything but tender.

Chewing his lower lip subconsciously, Raphael gazed at them with glossy, distant eyes, a longing that he kept hidden away deep inside surfacing, his stomach feeling as if it were tying itself in knots. Damn, he thought bitterly, damn! Why should he feel so different when he watches this? Why should he feel such a pitiful longing? He was a ninja, master of the martial arts and had complete control of his body. Such bullshit like love shouldn't even faze him. How could he be so weak as to wish for something so trivial?

Two fingernails dug into his palm as he clenched his fist, the mild jealousy he had felt turning into white-hot anger. He hated the way he thought like this, the way he felt. He hated it.

Pounding the cheap arm rails of his chair, Raphael rose to his feet, gritting his teeth when he felt several pairs of eyes burn into his turned back. Why should he care though? Their just people, people who enjoy taunting him and his loneliness, people who were too shallow to accept him for who he is, and not what he looked like. Pushing thought the narrow isle roughly he cussed under his breath, knocking a sweating drink from its wobbly holder, spilling its contents all over the stairs next to him.

"Hey! Why don't chu watch where yer going next time, asshole!"

A teenaged girl snapped at him rudely, breaking the tango of tongues she was sharing with her male friend, obviously the owner of the spilled soda. Raphael felt his cheeks grow hot from embarrassment, but growled out an insult in reply, slipping out of the isle and slinking quickly toward the exit.

Bursting thought the heavy steel doors he let loose a loud obscenity, stepping into the alley alongside the theater.

"Fuckin' braud! Bite me, alright?"

Seething, he stormed blindly down the darkness of the narrow, abandoned street, stuffing his hands stiffly into the pockets of his long coat.

"Asshole…Asshole! Mebbe if she wasn't so busy sucking the tongue outta her boyfriend's mouth, she coulda seen me comin'! So damned caught up in makin' out! Kissing…touching…"

His shoulders slumped as he slowly dragged his feet, stopping just before a shallow puddle of muddy water. A reflection of a sullen turtle peered wearily up at him from the small pool of liquid, the young face marred with lines of hurt, exhaustion and depression. Is that what people saw when they looked at him? Does he really look so…morose? A burning in the back of his throat made him swallow hard, watching somberly as his reflection pursed together its lips, its chin wrinkling as a frown pulled the corners of his mouth downward.

A grimace of sadness.

Slowly, his tortured reflection disappeared; large drops of water falling randomly from the sky breaking up his image in the puddle. Lifting his head, Raphael stared solemnly up at the clouded night sky, the heavy, cool droplets spattering and moistening his freckled green flesh, mixing it's fluids with the hot, salty tears that now began trickling down his face. If only his emptiness, his depression…could be washed away with the rain.

His eyes sliding closed, Raphael pulled his arms free from his pockets, opening them up and turning his palms upwards, embracing the comfort this evening's shower brought. How alone he felt. Even with his brothers he felt it. Alone. Why does he continue to be tormented by this loneliness? What had he done to be so burdened by it? He stuttered a silent sob, letting his arms fall limply to his sides, the rain still decorating his clammy skin with messy splashes of water. Could he be the only person suffering like this? Surely there were others who felt like this, others who have felt the aching pull of loneliness. The numb feeling of complete solitude. He couldn't be the only one—.

His thoughts ended instantly when he heard a shrill scream. He strained his ears for the noise again, hearing what sounded like a scuffle coming from the edge of an almost empty parking lot opposite the alley. Immediately he broke into a jog, using the long shadows casted by deserted buildings and trees for cover, his bare feet carrying him quickly and silently toward his destination. Plastering himself against the side of a one-story building, he cradled the handle of his sai, peeking out just enough to see what was causing the commotion.

There were two men and a young girl – an obvious unfair fight. One of the men stood apart from the other two, dressed crisply in an all black suit, fingering the bridge of his glasses, the lenses glinting dangerously in the light of a street lamp nearby. He appeared to be monitoring the conflict, an aloof smile playing on his lips while his hands folded neatly across his chest; his posture alone letting on that he was a leader of some sort.

His accomplice was also in black attire, from head to toe, only his was more of a casual wear, his bare, chiseled shoulders and biceps gleaming in the glow of the lamp above. The only thing that stood out from the man, aside from his tremendous size, was an odd design that adorned his thick neck, the curves and spirals of the tattoo disappearing behind his tiny ears. His demeanor was arrogant and offensive even while he stood perfectly still, one of his massive paws beckoning the girl forward, challenging her. She hissed out something inaudible in immediate response, two long, slender legs bending slightly at the knee supporting her as she took a step toward the two men, her shapely body exhibiting a fearlessness that rivaled her assailant as she clutched something to her chest. Lengthy hair colored a brilliant and unusual shade of blue streaked with a raven black spilled down her back and over her shoulders, hiding most of her face.

Raphael couldn't help cocking an eyebrow at this peculiar scene, tearing off the hat nestled snuggly on his head and tossing it aside, his trench coat following suit as he unsheathed both sais. Stepping away from the concealment of the building, he carefully skulked toward the trio, working his way around and behind them while he watched the conflict unravel before him.

"((Give me…the vile.))"

Ears perked, Raphael bristled as he noticed the suited man's husky voice was Japanese, his menacing tone reminding him of one of his first enemies – Oroku Saki. That name, that memory…brought with it the old feeling of ire he once had, the feeling of abhorrence. As if acknowledging the evil that the Shredder represented, the rain stopped with a rumble of thunder from the billowing clouds above, a deafening silence taking place of the pitter-patter from the rain.

Wiping his glistening forehead, Raphael listened intently to their conversation, trying his best to translate what was being said.

"((No.))"

This voice was a threatening murmur with a high, silvery twist to it that could only belong to the girl. Without so much as a glance in her direction Raphael could tell she wasn't too fond of these gentlemen, hearing the venom in her voice when she spoke through her teeth.

"((No? Perhaps you don't understand, so let me make myself very clear; Give me the vile and I assure you your death will be as painless as possible. I can't say the same for your comrades, however.))"

The man who had spoken before now stepped forth and into the light of the street lamp, holding out a hand, ready to receive what he had asked for. He seemed extremely confident and a little bit too calm for the situation.

Perched atop a tree branch just above the three people, Raphael raised his eyebrows as he saw the girl's grip tighten on the item she held closely to her body, spitting fiercely into the man's open palm.

"((…_No_.))"

That palm, now smitten with hot saliva and hatred, closed very slowly, the man attached to it showing mild amusement, his indifference from before never wavering. Almost too casually he pulled a folded handkerchief from his pocket, wiping her insult off thoroughly as his wide shoulders now rippled with an unintelligible chuckle, tucking the cloth back into the chest pocket of his jacket.

"((You are bold, and have an admirable determination. But unfortunately, you're very stupid. You leave me no choice…))"

Raphael still couldn't see the girl's reaction, her back to him while the two men faced his direction. He watched as the suited man straightened out the curve of his sneer, narrowing his Asian eyes at her before nodding at his associate, spinning on his heels as he walked back into the shadows.

"((Do what you like – but keep her alive. She still needs to provide the information of her friends whereabouts.))"

Now the brawny man shot her a crooked, cruel smile, those beady gray eyes laughing at the girl as he sauntered toward her, the wide hands at his sides balling into impending fists, growling out at her disdainfully.

"((I warned you about this. I told you what would happen…but you wouldn't listen to a friend's wise words.))"

Languidly the large man pulled something from the side of his waist, the long object shining bright silver in the gentle radiance of the florescent light above, his voice gruff and cold. His ominous approach didn't look to intimidate the girl at all, however, who compared to him, looked liked a child.

"((A friend? You were nothing but a traitorous snake...ever since the revolution. You can't think for yourself…which makes controlling you easier for the Oppressors.))"

Something flickered across the man's expression, like a nerve ending snapped, and he froze, his thick brow furrowing. He twirled his sword nimbly in his hand, falling into an offensive stance. Raphael at once recognized the skill; this man was apparently friendly with a katana.

"((Such fierceness…too bad it won't save you against my wrath!))"

With every syllable his voice rose, filling with rage as he lunged forth, his weapon slinging out and slashing multiple times at her, his teeth bared in blind rage.

_Wwffhhh_.

_Ffwwwhhh_.

Wide-eyed, Raphael looked on dumfounded as this girl, looking no more that seventeen expertly dodged each swipe that her attackers sword made at her, the sound of a metal blade slicing through the air echoing in the night's silence. Her reflexes looked faster than humanly possible, and to add to her skill, she struck the large man several times with her small offensive attacks, knocking him off balance each time.

Blinking away his shock, the Turtle knitted his brow together, leaping agilely out of the cover of the trees' branches and down to the pavement, his sais held ready in each hand. He hadn't interrupted the fight like he had planned, but the man standing off from where the combat was taking place immediately took notice of the large Turtle, barking out at his accomplice.

The burly man spun to face Raphael, his eyes widening in surprise as he realized just what he was looking at, the Turtle feeling dwarfed by the great height difference between he and the huge man.

That surprised expression on the man's face melted gradually into fury as his blade swung out at his new adversary, forgetting his current conflict with the girl as he charged forward. Barely keeping up with the barrage of sword swipes, Raphael knocked away each attempt to severe one of his limbs with his sais, the loud _ting_ of metal on metal piercing his ears, a hot anger beginning to burn deep inside his chest as he fought off the brutish man.

In a split second decision the Turtle ducked one of the attacks, whipping a green leg out and sweeping the man's legs out from under him. Remarkably he was knocked off his feet very easily, his broad back hitting the pavement with a crack, his weapon falling free from his strong grip as he let loose a surprised yelp.

Towering over him, Raphael delivered a swift kick to the man's abdomen, watching through narrowed eyes as the man curled up, his hands holding the place where the Turtle's foot met his stomach. A starved wheezing escaped the man; his mouth opened wide and eyes squeezed shut while he gasped for the breath that had been knocked from him.

"((Since when is a fight of two-to-one fair, huh?))"

The Turtle took a step back, letting the man struggle to his feet as he fixed a fierce glare on him. The kick really did some damage, for the man had trouble walking, but pushed himself to stumble toward him, still desperate for air.

Without warning the girl suddenly charged the man approaching Raphael, leaping up high in the air and into a tight flip, her supple legs extending out as the flip escalated into a hands free cartwheel. Stepping back, the Turtle tensed, weary of any attack she might have up her sleeve while the rugged man limping toward Raphael noticed nothing, still red faced from rage and pain.

"((Why you fu—))"

The large man was cut short and knocked face first to the black top, the girl's heel connecting promptly with the back of his head just before her split second aerial assault ended, accomplishing a lethal attack and graceful maneuver at the same time. Landing softly beside him, the girl gave Raphael an attentive sideways glance, kneeling down briefly and pinching a nerve in her assailants' neck, the man uttering a small cry before he relaxed into forced unconsciousness.

"((Well, well…))"

The girl whirled around to face the voice behind her, taking a step closer to Raphael as her dark-colored lips pulled back to bare her teeth. Noticing her acceptance of he and his help, the Turtle took his combat stance next to her, spinning his sais freely on his fingers before tucking them away.

"((So you have help now, hmmm? Your little green friend stepping in to save you? It won't matter; you're both freaks and you're both going to die.))"

Instantly he threw his hand behind him, pulling out an ebony revolver, the bullet chamber protruding out into the long shaft of a silencer. His right leg slipped from under him and he dropped deftly to one knee, his gun now level with his eye as several dulled rounds fired out.

Without so much of a second thought Raphael dropped to his stomach, his hand finding the dip of the girl's back before bringing her down with him. Steadily, with the girl held tight underneath him and shielded from the flying lead bullets, the Turtle began to roll, desperate to get out of range. The girl, however, broke free of his sheltering grip, springing to her feet before launching something in her attacker's direction, the object hitting the gunman square in the chest. He cried out, slumping over moments after, his body held up at a gross angle by the thing that struck his torso.

Gradually climbing to his feet, Raphael cautiously made his way over to the fallen man, his body and senses still high-strung from moments ago. He hesitated to touch it at first, fear and apprehension nagging at the back of his mind, but grimly tucked those feelings away, scolding himself for being so anxious. Dropping to one knee, he suspiciously began to turn the limp body onto its back, a sound like metal scraping against stone causing him to arc an eyebrow, immediately drawing back as he saw one of his own sais protruding from the man.

Absently, his hand reached back to touch were he kept his sais, an empty spot in his left holster confirming that this weapon was one of his. The girl must have grabbed it from him while he was rolling, he assumed, the tip of it set deep into the man's chest, his satin black shirt stained with crimson as the liquid spread and seeped out onto the pavement in sick, rhythmic throbs.

He's _dead_. Raphael scowled at the body; as much as he didn't like this guy, he wasn't planning on killing anybody. Not tonight. He felt foolish for letting one of his weapons get away from him.

"((Oohh-hh…God…))"

Raphael tensed ever so slightly, forgetting just for a moment that he wasn't alone out in the parking lot. Before he turned to the girl, he located his exits: a manhole in the sidewalk along the closest building and one in the center of a parking lot one building over. Wiping the cusp of his sai off on the coattail of the man's suit, Raphael debated slipping away and into the sewer. It would be safe to disappear, and she was attacker-free for the time being. Besides – he still had a bit more sulking to do.

The rain from earlier started slowly again, and he watched her sit silently in its' cooling curtain, unmoving. After a few more moments of internal struggle, he meandered across the wet black top of the parking lot to the girl. Ta hell with secrecy – she had already seen him. Wouldn't hurt to make sure she was okay.

"((You okay…?))"

The girl, leaning awkwardly on one hand with her slender legs folded under her, went rigid; his presence so close to her crumpled form startling her. She gradually turned her head toward him, pausing briefly when she caught sight of the vile still held tight in her hand before crooking her neck back smoothly, her rain-soaked hair matting itself down about her round face. The shape of her soft, slanted eyes widened when her eyes locked onto the stoic gaze of his, some of her expression hidden behind locks of wet hair.

Her eyes made him double-take. A striking color of rich violet, he couldn't help but stare. Gingerly, he brushed the loose strands of damp hair aside, catching sight of a small welt that colored her pale flesh purple, the bruise an oblong circle just under her cheekbone. Pulling her hair completely away from her face, he let it fall freely through his fingers, its heavy silkiness tickling the sensitive nerves on his fingertips. How exquisite it felt, to touch something so soft, so unlike what he was used to…

The realization that he had been holding her gaze for far too long finally caught up with him, and with a quick shake of his head he drew away from her, pretending he saw something off in the distance, his hands settling nervously into his lap.

That was embarrassing.

He decided to repeat his question, make this uncomfortable situation more casual.

"((You okay, kid?))"

Turning her body slightly, she lifted her elbow up, bringing Raphael's attention to a dark red gash on her forearm. The blood was running a steady line down the curve of her arm and into her lap, the rain deluding the small forming puddle.

"Ah shit…"

His fingers wrapped around the thin shape of her wrist, pulling her arm carefully toward him and lifting it, his large brown eyes squinting as he examined her wound, tugging the rather long glove she wore off. He felt her eyes on him as he worked, felt her dissecting him with those violet orbs. As he dressed her injury with the glove she was wearing, he noticed her fair skin contrasted so diversely with his own dark colored flesh, they were so different…and briefly, the sorrow-filled emotions he had been feeling earlier flickered across his memory, making him frown inwardly. Raphael felt so monstrous compared to her. He couldn't help but feel ugly, looking from his green, speckled palm to her pallid smooth hand. He could only imagine what was running through her head.

Knotting the bandaged up he released her elbow, pushing the negativity threatening to sour his mood down into his bowels, looking up at her stolidly.

"((You speak English?))"

She nodded slowly.

"Good. Your arm'll be all right. The hospital wil—"

"No."

He saw her tense, the hand held tight around the tiny glass container clenching slightly.

"You need it kid—"

"No. I can't go…to a hospital. I can't go there."

She kept her eyes focused on her knees, staring down at a rip in her stockings, her voice curt, but slipping into a whimper at the end.

"I thank you for your help…but you shouldn't have. You shouldn't have gotten involved."

A scowl fell on to his face. This girl's got a great way of showing gratitude…

"No way you coulda taken out both guys. You _needed_ help. A 'thank you' would be nice, ya know."

"I didn't _need_ help. It was a mistake to get caught with them out in the open. You didn't have to help me."

She shot him a fiery glare, her eyes fixing on his again. Gritting his teeth, he felt frustration rush his body and with a slow intake of breath he tried to subdue it. She was being stubborn…and for some reason he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Not yet. He could tell she was distressed, but the hostility he saw in her eyes was only to mask something deeper, more painful behind it. He furrowed his steep brow.

"The hell it was; they jumped you."

"I should have seen it coming—"

"Don't think so. You _needed_ help."

"I don't! I don't need help! I don't someone feeling sorry for m—"

Her voice broke, that familiar crease of a frown and the wrinkles of her chin showing just how upset she was, turning away from him and staring at the hole in her thigh-highs again. After a few moments of a rain-filled silence, she took a deep breath, her eyes closing.

"…You don't know what you're getting into."

"Mind tellin' me?"

He was answered by another glare as she stood up quickly, walking away from him. He climbed to his feet and followed her, determined. This was such a challenge…but he'll be damned if he couldn't make this girl recognize some reason. After several minutes of listening to the click of her heels and the pit-pat of the rain, she spun around to face him.

"Why are you following me?"

"Still waiting on that 'thank you'."

She glowered at his tone through the rain.

"I don't need someone to save me!"

"Didn't look that way to me…"

She dropped her head and hid her face in her hands, struggling with her emotions. He watched her body tremble fiercely under the building rain before she gave a short sigh, lifting her head to him. Despite the rain drenching her face, he knew it was tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

"Just leave me _alone_."

She turned and began walking, still cradling her wounded arm and the vile. Raphael watched her intently, his urge to make a point unwavering. He called out to her.

"You really want that?"

She stopped, only a few feet from the end of the alley. She remained silent, letting the rain drizzle down on her. She spoke up, but kept her back to him.

"It's safer for you if you leave me alone."

He cocked an eyebrow, measuring her words. Carefully, he approached her, making sure he kept a comfortable distance from the lamp on the side of the building. He didn't mind if she'd already seen him, but he didn't want anyone else to. He stopped only a few steps from her.

"Is it safer for you?"

Her shoulders dropped and he watched her hug herself, any sobs that may have slipped from her lips muffled by the rain. She turned to him, her lower lip quivering as she fought her tears. He could tell she was frustrated, but it appeared it was more with herself than him. She finally stuttered out a sob, bringing a hand up to hide her eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

His forehead crinkled with creases of concern, realizing she was in worse shape than she had originally let on. Raphael studied her, trying to find a way to articulate his point.

"You need help. Real bad. And I know that tryin' push people away ain't the smartest thing to do."

"Then what do you suggest I do!"

Again, sobs tried desperately to spill from her eyes and mouth as she yelled at him, but she fought them back, sniffing loudly. He stared at her, fighting with feelings. It would be safer for him to just leave her alone, yes…he didn't know anything about her. But he knew what it felt like to go it alone…and then be forced into a corner that you have to claw your way out of. Memories of the rooftop at April's old shop came to mind, and with a growing resolve he spoke up.

"Lemme help."

Taking deliberate steps closer, her eyes search his, full of desperation and suspicion. Her gaze was intense and piercing, but he didn't blink. This was the right thing to do. He didn't know how, but it was. The tears blanketing her violet orbs finally leapt from her eyes, and with a whine she fell to her knees, sobbing softly.

"Then please help me…"

She was in his strong grasp moments after, his jacket draped over her body and his hat on his head. She clung to him weakly, blood loss starting to slowly affect her. The rain hissed louder as it began to downpour, and silently he headed toward the nearest manhole. Raphael knew that doing something as noble as this was highly unlike him, but the instinct to protect something weaker than him was almost over powering. She was a stranger…but somehow he felt it his responsibility to protect her.

She leaned into him, still struggling with her sobs. As Raphael descended into the sewers, she whispered into his ear:

"Thank you."


	2. My Name?

**Author's Note:** More editing. And there will be more to come. Anyhoo, for you're reading pleasure. And thank you all for the reviews, I love feedback! 3

**Rating:** PG, for mild language.

**Chapter 2: My Name?**

The echo of footsteps bounced off the rounded walls beneath the streets, the steady trickle of rain tapping continuously against the thick cement of the sewer floor accompanying the other sounds of the sewer. A small river of water began running a smooth path along the bottom, the lukewarm liquid pooling around the ankles of two people quietly making their way toward the small opening at the end of a tunnel. A small sliver of light stretched across the walls and floor of the entrance when they reached it, the large Turtle pressing one of his wide palms against the shoulder of the shivering girl, holding her back gently.

"Wait for justa minute, okay?"

She nodded quickly, looking around uneasily when he left her side, Raphael catching the nervous expression crossing her face as she drew his damp jacket tighter around her trembling form.

Stepping into the dimly lit interior of the sewer den, Raphael slid his hat off his head, hanging it up onto the coat rack situated near the door. He rubbed the side of his thick bicep, walking slowly toward the glow of the television, his big brown eyes dilating as they adjusted to the lighting of the room. Gradually he made out the form of someone lying comfortably on the couch; their legs propped up on the armrest, a paperback book open on their chest plate. As he neared, another figure came into view, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch, his legs folded casually under him, a wrinkled bag of potato chips next to him. Both seemed engrossed in the program playing on the flickering screen of the television, it's fuzzy picture showing what looked like cartoons; a gray cat chasing the blur of a little brown mouse.

"Ah, not Tom and Jerry again…"

The two heads that faced the television whipped back and were now facing Raphael, one with an orange mask and the other with purple. He suspected they had already sensed his presence, and only turned because he spoke.

"It's a classic, dude. Everyone likes Tom and Jerry."

Michelangelo rolled out of his seated position and to his knees, chucking a chip at Raphael, who swatted it away absently and leaned a hip on the corner of the couch.

"Not everyone likes 'em; I don't."

"You're weird."

Raphael answered him with a roll of his eyes, folding his arms across his chest and glancing down at Donatello, who had been eyeing him with a grin.

"You're home awful late; tied up at the office?"

The grin spread further across Donatello's face when Raphael shot him a glare, whirling around and heading back toward the door. Sitting up and draping an arm over the back of the couch, Donatello arced an eyebrow at his brother, who grumbled something under his breath.

"What'd you say, Raph?"

"I said shut the hell up and help me."

Without a break in his stride Raphael bellowed out at his brothers, both of them exchanging curious glances as they watched his back disappear into the shadows outside the door to the den.

"Help you? With wha—"

Donatello trailed off as he caught sight of a girl walking in with Raphael, clutching her blood-stained arm to her body, Raphael's trench coat hanging stiffly about her shoulders and swaying slightly as she shivered underneath it. Her hair clung to her face, her lower lip tucked under her teeth while she chewed it, peering uncertainly into the room he and Michelangelo occupied, her dark violet eyes standing out against the pale flesh of her face which was adorned with a rather large developing bruise.

She looked like she'd been through hell.

"Stop sittin' there and help, will ya? She's hurt…"

Raphael growled in irritation, watching the two Turtles stare inquisitively at her, their mouths slightly agape as they forgot themselves for a moment. Slowly they came to, one of them shooting Raphael an odd look which he dismissed without second thought.

Peeling the heavy coat off of the girl, he helped her to the couch, which was immediately vacated for her by Donatello, who scurried off to get his other brother and Master while Michelangelo fetched clothing and bandages.

Positioning himself across from her in an armchair, Raphael watched the girl as she sat rigidly before him. She kept very still, her sobbing from earlier now only a stuttered sigh when she took a deep breath. She held her hands clasped together in her lap, the tiny glass vile still protectively sheltered in her palms as her head hung low, her eye unfocused.

She looked much more vulnerable in the light of the lair. Much more tired. He was starting to wonder just what she had been through. She looks so frail...so scared...

"Raphael..."

He snapped his head up, seeing the form of a four foot Rat standing in front of his three brothers, who were watching the and the girl with meddlesome expressions, their interest varying. She had apparently sensed them before he did, her expression wary.

"Raphael, who have you brought us?"

"She got jumped in the parking lot of the Theater, I hadda help her, bring her h—"

Raphael was silenced with a wave of Splinter's bony hand, the elderly Rat finding a seat beside the girl, resting a friendly hand on her stiff shoulders. She gave a sideways glance at the Rat, almost hesitant, looking back at Raphael for reassurance quickly.

"You do not have to fear, child...there are no enemies among you here."

Anxiously, Raphael watched carefully as the girl was met with a warm smile from his Master, her violet eyes studying the olden Rat carefully. Splinter's hand slid down from her shoulder to the crimson-soaked clothe tied snuggly around her forearm, making her tense instinctively.

"It's okay…please relax."

The wise Rat's words came out in a soothing, raspy hum, his other hand rubbing her arm gently. She nodded once, watching with undecided eyes as she began to relax her body a little, falling back into the cushion of the worn couch, the hands held close around the vile slipping to let the Rat touch her wounded arm more freely. Idly, her head tipped back against the shape of the couch's top, the delicate lines and valleys of her feminine neck exposing itself to all that were watching, the contour of her shoulders dropping as her body started to unwind.

Raphael found himself devouring those supple lines and curves with his eyes, his tongue subconsciously slipping out to moisten his wide lips. He noticed the girl herself was unaware of the eyeful she was offering; she didn't realize she was showing too much skin. An eye-ridge lifted curiously as Raphael took her in, watching his Master tend to her wound; Perhaps she was too naïve to know.

Maybe she was just an innocent.

Suddenly, the idea of ogling her was shameful. Yea, Raphael could watch any woman undress…but the idea of tainting something pure with his lustful thoughts was wrong. Trying a quick look over to his brothers, he scowled at their hungry eyes, seeing his thoughts from moments ago shining in them as they watched her.

"There child; you should be healed in a few weeks."

Splinter had finished dressing the girl's wound, his eyes twinkling as his lean face split into a comforting smile. She returned the smile, timidly, and let her other hand trail over the taut cloth around her arm, her eyes skimming over the three large Turtles who stood silently behind the Rat. Raphael watched Splinter follow her gaze, his eyes studying her.

"Do we frighten you?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Would it make you uncomfortable if you slept here tonight?"

She peered at Raphael's brothers, but shook her head again.

"Well then, allow me to introduce you to my family. I am Splinter. This is Leonardo…"

The Turtle trimmed with a thin blue mask stepped forward, bowing sharply at the hip while his hands came together, giving the girl a polite smile.

"…Michelangelo…"

The Turtle next to him with an orange mask hopped forth, sticking up both of his green thumbs in a very Fonzie-like manner, erupting in a carefree chuckle when he made the corners of the girl's lips curve into a bashful smile.

"…Donatello… "

Casually, the Turtle masked in purple on Leonardo's other side moved one step toward her, an amicable smile gracing his green lips as he titled his head down, nodding hello.

"…And Raphael."

Rising to his feet, Raphael gave her a nod; his hands coming together comfortably cross his abdomen. His gaze shot from the girl to his brother Michelangelo, who let out a sigh and made his way toward the armchair beside Raphael, plopping down and smiling, his other brother's reclining on the couch next to the girl, and on the floor in front of her. Raphael found the edge of the wall and propped his shoulder against it, leaning casually with his arms folded defensively around his chest, standing slightly off from the others, behind the couch.

Splinter found the comfort of his usual spot, on the floor and in a used armchair, his rat-like finger folding together.

"You have learned our names…but I'm afraid we have not learned yours."

The girl gave the Rat an unreadable look, as if she didn't understand, her eyes toggling between each of the Turtles.

"My name…?"

Her voice came out in a satiny shyness, still unsure, but a quick glance toward Raphael melted that uneasiness into modest confidence, her shoulders rolling back and her back straightening out.

"My name is Yin."

---

Under a thick red brow Raphael watched her through the darkness, some stray rays of the moon peeking though hidden cracks, his fingers laced together in front of him, supporting his chin as his brown eyes traced over her body continuously. She had fallen asleep long ago, about two hours since she had arrived, and was now comfortably dressed in a large baseball jersey he had purchased a couple years ago. It just barely kept her covered, but her other clothes were soaked with both blood and rain, drying on a clothesline strung up across the living room. The vile she had so viciously protected was no longer clutched in her hands, but now hanging from a thin silver chain around her neck. She was adamant about keeping it within arms reach, and with quick thinking on Donatello's part, he made her a necklace.

The necklace seemed to have made an impression on her, and with the vile now in a place she was comfortable with, her distance with them faded. Her timid smile flashed several more times before she found her way to the couch, where she lay asleep now. Although she was nonchalant about it, Raphael watched her check all of the exits in the lair before she finally relaxed. He knew that even though they were being hospitable and posed no real threat to her, she didn't entirely let her guard down. She didn't quite trust her environment to be safe. But none the less, exhaustion had gotten the better of her, and here she was now, asleep on the living room couch. And here he was now, Raphael somehow finding himself sitting in the armchair across from her.

Watching her. Studying her.

She couldn't be too comfortable. Her body was twisted sharply at the waist, her legs folded in toward the couch while her top half leaned more toward the edge, her left arm hanging limply over the cushion. Her comfort probably didn't matter though; she looked like she hadn't slept in days, which could probably be true, seeing what she had to face last night.

He scowled.

She was being hunted. He understood that now. Not even old enough to buy cigarettes, and she's being sought after by something very big in the criminal underworld. They'd have to be, to have that kind of man power. Raphael had pondered over whether or not the Shredder was connected, but he had dismissed the theory; as much of an asshole the Shredder was, he was about traditional ninjitsu. Quick, deadly, efficient. There was never need for guns. The thugs she had fought were a little more sloppy. Familiar with ninjitsu, yes…but not the Shredder.

His expression softened as he watched the girl stir, rolling her body onto her stomach with a dream-filled sigh, a faint whimper slipping out when she dangled her injured arm over the side. His eyes narrowed in thought – She didn't look like the type to get into trouble. Young, polite, naïve…these weren't traits of a criminal. He was amazed at her skill when it came to fighting…but her shyness perplexed him. She acted as though she wasn't allowed conversation…as a child would if they had interrupted their parents' discussion.

She seemed so new.

Growing irritated with his mounting curiosity, Raphael got to his feet, feeling his bones grind together painfully, tiredly; yeap, sleep would definitely do some good tonight. His hands stretched out far above his head, the noise of his shoulders cracking bouncing off the walls, breaking the silence that had descended onto the room, Raphael padding down the hall and toward his room.

Passing Michelangelo's room, Raphael saw the soft glow of Mike's portable television lighting the room, the white light bright enough to penetrate the darkness of the hall and his own room. The still outline of his brother lead him to believe he was sleeping. Huffing in mild annoyance, Raphael leaned up against the open doorway of his room; that was going to keep him up all night.

Quietly, Raphael crept to Mike's bedside, pulling the small, handheld television from his fingers and turning it off, making the whole room go dark. Placing it on his brother's dresser, Raphael then headed for his room across the hall, but stopped at the sound of a familiar voice.

"She asleep?"

A soft whisper was heard from his sleeping brother, who apparently hadn't been sleeping, the sound of springs squeaking stiffly under his weight as Michelangelo turned to face Raphael. With a short sigh Raphael raised a hand up to find the doorframe, his elbow coming to lean on it as he searched for Mike's face in the dark.

"...Yea."

There was a pause.

"...What happened tonight?"

"I told you already: she got jumped."

Raphael noticed he sounded more irritated that he felt. There was another silence, but he had a feeling Michelangelo wasn't satisfied.

"...So has everybody who lives in New York City."

He was right. There was no point in lying, or avoiding the question; it's not every day he brings home a young girl after she's been jumped for no reason. Well, there were reasons, but Raphael didn't want his brothers guessing at what they could be. Better just be honest.

"She needs help, Mike. She's needed it for a long time. I dunno everything yet...but there are some dangerous people out there who are after her. People who can fight...people who will kill her."

He pressed a palm to his forehead and pushed it slowly back to cup the knot in his mask, looking down at the floor with a frown while he waited for his brother's reaction.

"...Oh."

Through the darkness Raphael shot his brother a curious glance, his remark very unlike what he was used to hearing out of him. Giving a half shrug, he turned toward his room, rubbing his face roughly.

"I wasn't expecting that kinda reason. You coulda said something like 'I'm gonna get some for saving her life'...that woulda been a _much_ more entertaining answer."

Yep – Raphael had spoke too soon, hearing the smile in his brother's voice; now there's the Michelangelo he knew. He could have the worst sense of humor, sometimes.

Slowly and silently sauntering to his room, Raphael paused at his doorway, glancing in the direction of the living room. He couldn't see anything, it was pitch black, but he still felt the need to look. To at least try to see her, and if she was moving. Sensing nothing but sleep in the lair, he half-shrugged and walked to his inviting bed, his hands finding the cool metal of his sais before sliding them out of their holsters and setting them by his bed gently. Carelessly he tugged his tight mask off, tossing it randomly to the floor before sinking into the soft comfort of his bed. The springs creaked under his weight as he sat down on his old mattress, reaching back and rubbing the sore muscles of his neck, closing his eyes tightly as he kneaded the knotted flesh. His careless massaging doing more harm than good, Raphael gave up and languidly slid into the comfort of his warm bedding, settling down with a sleepy sigh before the gentle arms of sleep swept him off into unconsciousness.


	3. MC: An Afternoon of Chess

**Author's Note:** New, bonus chapter, woo! XD Actually, it's only a mini chapter...but I thought it was needed. And yes, re-writing quite a few things in this story, but only to make it all fit together in the end. SO, here ya go - more fun. And I was try for a bit more humor in this...just to see how much you guys like it. Please tell me what you think!

**Chapter Rating:** PG, for mild language, innuendo, and alcohol use.

**MINI CHAPTER: An Afternoon of Chess**

Idly, he swung a beer bottle between his fingers, listening to the foamy drink swish around inside it. The television was buzzing away with the latest news, and despite the remote he was actively using to change the channels, wasn't really paying attention to the screen. After a few more uninterested clicks, he turned the television off and took a long swig off his bottle, rolling the frothy liquid along his tongue before he swallowed. He was on his fourth bottle, and with Leonardo surface-side with April, Raphael didn't see the harm.

It's been a while since he'd had a beer. Making up for it in quantity was fine by him. It came with a free buzz.

He heard his other brothers in the kitchen, one of them in particular being too loud for the game that was being played.

"_How—You can't do that!"_

"_It's a fair move, Mikey. Queens can pretty much do anything."_

"_Yea? Well that means _mine_ can do that too."_

"_Of course. But you have to actually have the piece in order to play it."_

"_Yea, yea…"_

A shift in the couch cushions pulled Raphael's attention away from the conversation in the kitchen. His eyes darting to the figure at the other end of the couch, he watched her settle down. Outfitted now in white tee and jean shorts, she turned to face him, her legs folded under her and her fingers toying with her necklace. He took another sip of his drink, noticing her attire – thank God for April. If she hadn't kept some old clothes down here, Yin would be in a paper bag.

Waiting, he observed her observing him. He knew she had something to say, but didn't bother to ask what. He was never one for small talk, let alone a person who'd initiate it. So, he waited.

"Where'd you get that?"

Raphael saw her eyes on his beer. He also noticed that the welt on her cheek was now greenish-yellow; almost healed after only a few days.

"The fridge."

She responded with a polite giggle, causing him to raise an eye ridge. He hadn't meant to be funny…but thinking about what he had answered, he guessed it was not what she had asked.

"I know that. I mean…where do you get it? Your food, and everything else. Do you guys have outside help?"

"Kinda. Couple people on the outside we know. Mostly we just know how to make the things we want from the surface appear in our lair."

That was the most delicate way he could describe what they did. Stealing was the honest truth, but they didn't do it for the thrill. Necessity will always trump moral principle.

"Nobody notices?"

"Nope."

Raphael drained the last of his beer, setting the empty bottle on the coffee table. His body hummed comfortably with the alcohol buzz, but he was no where near drunk. He and lady liquor were well acquainted, so he knew how much it would take to relax a little.

"You guys have a lot of outside friends?"

"No."

"You don't really trust anybody…huh?"

"No."

He felt like he wasn't giving her questions satisfying answers, but he didn't really know what else to say. Social and Raphael really weren't mixed well. Silence hovered over them, allowing the sound of the kitchen's chess players to fill the air.

"_Damnit! Why didn't you go for that piece?"_

"_Ah…I think I can tell when I'm being set up for a trap. I can see the pieces just as much as you can."_

"_Ya better be careful with the wise cracks, Donny – I know where ya live."_

Raphael gave a snort at his brothers' remark. He and Yin exchanged humored glances.

"You family's pretty close."

"…We're pretty much all we got."

She was quiet for a long moment, and a glance at her showed a more serious, sad expression.

"…Must be nice."

Raphael gave her a more concentrated look. There was definitely more meaning behind those words, but the buzz he was enjoying ushered along the decision to dismiss it. He realized that he still knew very little about her situation, and that it was still possibly dangerous to have her here, but he didn't feel like worrying about that right now.

Looking over, he watched Yin pull her long locks of hair over to one shoulder, her fingers working the strands into three chunks that she slowly began to weave into a braid.

"I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure he understood what that apology was for.

"For?"

"For giving you a hard time. I'm sorry for that."

This was awkward. He gave a shrug, his eyes dropping.

"I'm not really good with people. I don't know how to act around them, or talk…so I generally don't trust anyone. I won't…because it's safer to. But I realized…that you're the same way. You and your family can't afford to have a lot of outside contact…because trusting one person, even if it's one wrong person, can get you guys killed. I understand that."

He held her gaze, letting her words sink past the buzz of the alcohol to where he could weigh her words with more consideration. Her violet eyes shined very intensely into his, clouded with an emotion he could place. She continued on, her fingers cradling the vile around her neck.

"I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling, so I'm just gonna say it: Thank you. I know what a risk you took bringing me into your home…and I do whatever I can to keep you and your family secret. I appreciate what you did for me, what you're doing for me. I…just wish I could do something in return."

She bowed her head, her gesture very gracious and very oriental. He shifted uneasily, unable to think of a response. When their eyes connected again, she gave him a warm, inviting smile and reached out to squeeze his hand.

"So…thanks. Really."

Managing a quick but awkward nod of gratitude, Raphael watched her right herself and head toward the kitchen. He really didn't know _how_ to respond to women when it came to feelings. Aside from April and the 'Yer fuggin' hot' and 'How much?' he usually exchanged with other selected and moderately expensive women, he really didn't know how to _talk_ to them, either. Not without an agenda on the mind.

He sighed and gave a listen to the other room, waiting for more conversation to pick up.

"_Check."_

"_We'll just see about that. Take this."_

"_Checkmate."_

"_What? Lemme take it back."_

"_Fine."_

"_There."_

"_Checkmate."_

"_I mean there."_

"_Checkmate."_

"_There?"_

"_Mikey, that's the same place you tried two moves ago. _Checkmate_."_

"_This is such a dumb game."_


	4. Tearful Remembrance

**Author's Note:** Again, more editing. You're reviews really help me out, and encourage me! Thanks so much.

**Rating**: PG-13, for descriptive violence and language.

**CHAPTER THREE: Tearful Remembrance**

Plodding down the hall, Raphael squinted as the sun greeted his eyes. It wasn't really the sun, due to the fact that the lair was several yards underground, but Donatello had found a way to light the room so it looked like the sun. He said it created a more natural feeling environment. Passing through the living room, Raphael found the girl fast asleep on the couch, her hands tucked snuggly under her small chin. He let a little smile peek through the morning scowl he usually wore, feeling particularly good this morning, stepping quietly into the room where he and his brothers usually sat to eat. Immediately he was greeted with a grin from Michelangelo, who was bent over a bowl of cereal and sharing a conversation with Leonardo, who merely nodded at Raphael over the Newspaper.

Raphael made no effort to acknowledge the friendly gestures, making his way over the refrigerator and helping himself to some orange juice, taking a seat across from the two Turtles. Even though he remained casual about his entrance, he still felt his brothers' eyes on him, trying his best to ignore the unwanted attention while he swirled his drink. He also had noticed the conversation died down between the two, and the silence that had crept up on the kitchen was beginning to bother him. Finally, with an exasperated sigh, Raphael set his juice down roughly.

"What the hell…can I _help_ you?"

He shot his brothers an annoyed glance, specifically at Leonardo who had been glaring daggers at him over the top of the paper, taking another gulp from his drink. He saw the two exchange glances, Leonardo setting the paper down and folding his hands together.

"…Who is she, Raph?"

"Jeez Leo…"

Shaking his head in irritation with a roll of his eyes, Raphael crossed his arms, showing he wasn't in the mood for any kind of confrontation at the moment, his brow furrowing.

"Why the hell you askin' me for, huh? She told you her name, and that's all she told me. She's just a girl who got mugged and needs help."

Momentarily he glanced at Michelangelo, who slipped out of the room quickly. He knew he was going to grab Donatello, he always did when he went at it with Leonardo. It was a safety precaution learned long ago – if it gets too intense, make sure there's enough force to put between them to stop it.

"Don't gimme that Raph…she's a criminal. That thing she has is stolen from the Japanese government. It even talks about the robbery right here in the Newspaper."

Leonardo threw the messy pile of papers in Raphael's direction, some of it falling to the floor from his roughness as he stood up. Raphael threw a questioning glance at the paper, reaching for his drink and taking a sip, fixing his eyes on Leonardo as his thoughts raced. Her…a criminal?

His brother seemed to be reading his expression, his thoughts, the accusing glare he held on Raphael melting into question, taking a step toward him.

"…You didn't know."

Raphael gave a careless shrug, playing off his confusion as he stared at the paper with little interest, setting his empty glass down before resting his head on a fist.

"How was I s'pposed ta know? _If_ she's the fugitive you say she is…and that's a big-ass 'if', ya think she'd just tell me something like that?"

Switching his weight back onto a leg, Leonardo gave his brother a curious look accompanied by a small smile.

"You're right."

Raphael raised a suspicious eyebrow at his brother, not sure if what he heard was accurate.

"So you don't know who she is…but how could you? You said she didn't tell you, and you had a point: why would she? But I do think _you_ should ask her about it."

Ah…there's the catch. Raphael should have seen this coming. Sliding off the stool, Raphael rested an elbow on the table and leaned to the side, crossing his feet at the ankles, glowering at Leonardo.

"Oh, that's great Leo, real easy. '_Good morning, did you sleep comfortably? My brother and I were just discussing whether or not you were the foreign criminal wanted by the government, and the best way to kick you out. Would you like some breakfast?_'"

Raphael saw the change of emotion in his brother's face, the calm exterior he always kept melting into slight aggravation as he stepped forward shortly to defend his statement, illustrating how easily he could be provoked this morning. Donatello and Michelangelo had quietly entered the room, trying to be very nonchalant as the monitored the argument.

"You know that's not what I meant, Raph."

"Oh? So, you weren't just accusing a frightened girl, who was almost beaten to death, of an international crime? 'Cause it sure came across that way to me."

"She's wanted for possession of a government chemical, for God's sake!"

"Oh, blow it out your ass, Leo! You can't prove that!"

"The paper, _Raphael_, look at the damn paper."

Leonardo snatched the paper from the table, the material unusually noisy in his green hands, and held it up stiffly between the two fingers of his left hand, his right extending a wide digit to point at the fresh printed letters titling the crisp paper, reading aloud through his teeth.

"'Tiny Japanese vile lost in big American city: teenage foreigner smuggles chemical into the big Apple'. They even put a picture of the thing next to the article! I can't think of how I can make this anymore obvious to you!"

With a threatening growl, Raphael violently swatted the newspaper aside, his eyes narrowing at his sibling.

"Shut up! I don't need to listen to anymore of this Bullshit!"

"Why are you refusing to make the connection?"

"I said shut the hell up, Leo!"

"Raph, you nee—"

"_SILENCE! Both of you!_"

Now beak to beak, both bickering Turtles tensed, turning instantly to face the Rat standing at the entrance to the Kitchen, the young girl at his side. His aged brown eyes scolded the two with a stern, dissuading glare, one of his thin paws holding gently to the girl's arm, who kept a trembling hand to her chest as she stared at them, her eyes unsettled.

"I must apologize for my sons, Yin. Apparently my teachings haven't been sufficient enough, to have them fighting over this like children. My sincerest apology."

The throbbing warmth of his blushing cheeks made Raphael uneasy, casting his gaze to the floor when he was met with an authoritarian glare from his Master, giving a quick look at his brother. Leonardo appeared to be mortified; his eyes were closed shut as he bowed to both Splinter and the girl, whispering an apology. Glaring, Raphael looked away from his brother, he murmured a gruff apology, hating the fact that he was just scolded like a child.

"Stop…"

All four Turtles and the elderly Rat looked at the girl, who now took a step back and looked down, her hands stiff at her sides. She shook her head when she finally looked up at them, her violet eyes almost tearing up.

"…Please stop. Don't get upset over me. You have every right to think such things…"

The Rat looked into her eyes, his own narrowing in misunderstanding, his other hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"No. We did not mean to insult you, if we have. We are sorr—"

"No! Please…don't say it. You, of all people, shouldn't be apologizing to me. You took me in, helped me, gave me a place to sleep…don't apologize for that."

At the end of her sentence she erupted in a heavy sigh, running a doddering hand through her long hair.

"Please…sit down. All of you. I will tell you everything you want to know. The last thing I want is for you to feel threatened."

A dainty hand gestured toward the table before being tucked under her bosom when she crossed her arms, fixing a quick glance on Raphael. Raising his eyebrows, Raphael recognized the fact that this was a long time coming. Watching his family settle around her closely, he wondered how long this had been bothering her.

"What you have suspected is true…I am wanted for possession of a government chemical. A warrant for my arrest it out…but back in Tokyo…it has been out for much longer. I have been on the run for a long time. About twenty years ago, the Japanese government started a bio-chemical research team for developing genetically created beings…"

Through her entire speech, Raphael watched the girl keep a steady gaze on the table, one of her hands clasped tightly on her vile necklace Her voice was a serious monotone while her eyes appeared distant, as if she was daydreaming.

Her story told of genetically altered plants, animals, and finally humans, and how they were used for developing modern medicines. She went on saying how the government then shared some of its' research with a high profile military industry that tried something different with the new research. The turned the beings, specifically the humans, into living weapons, all of their abilities and senses altered and heightened for defensive and offensive projects. After accomplishing this, the girl explained, the organization made plans to sell the government their newest creations. The government, however, was appalled at such controversial and dangerous practices and tried to shut the project down, and cut all its' funding. The operation almost worked, but the industry managed to save some of its' research, and vowed revenge. The organization became a terrorist group, using its genetically created humans as weapons. Their success was short lived though, for the beings began to develop an awareness of the world, and a conscience, figuring out the acts of violence the corporation was forcing them to do were wrong. Many revolted but were eventually killed, only a few of the beings alive to hide or fight back.

With the majority of it's soldiers either dead or have escaped, the organization took whoever remained under their control and ransacked a government building for supplies, specifically the chemicals to rebuild it's army. Unfortunately for them, it had been stolen days before, by one of the very beings it created, who was set out to re-unite with its accomplices stationed in America. The organization, having learned of its' rebels plans, sought out the US government and warned them of what was headed their way, also sending several spies and soldiers to help along their plan.

"…Last night I was cornered by a ward and super soldier. Luckily, however, Raphael was kind enough to help me and…bring me here. Now, it's only a matter of time. Either the vile finds it's way into safe hands…or back to the organization."

As the girl finished, her head dropped down, her hands covering her face as a silence fell upon the table, everyone absorbing what had just been told. Raphael himself found all of this a little bit too hard to swallow, but felt no ill will toward the girl. In fact, he felt better about his decision to help her out; he stopped a serious international boo-boo from happening. Looking up, he exchanged silent glances between each of his brothers, who all appeared to be thinking the same thing – this was serious. Splinter caught the anxiety playing on his son's faces, and was the first to speak.

"This burden you have told us about should not be carried on alone. I feel, and I'm sure my sons agree, that we should do what ever necessary to help you get that vile into safer hands."

Slowly, the girl lifted her head up, peering inquisitively at the Rat, his gracious smile making her own lips curl up into a smile of her own, her eyes filling with relief, joy and oddly enough, tears as she pressed her hand atop the olden Rats'. She gave each of the silent Turtles a heart-filled smile, her eyes lingering Raphael before she turned back to Splinter.

"…Thank you."

The wise rat gave a dismissive nod, his other hand rubbing her back.

"It is the least we can do."

"Yin…?"

Now all eyes were on Donatello, who sat adjacent from his Master and the girl, his hands folded comfortably across his belly.

"You said that one of the genetically created beings stole the vile…but how do you have…"

His discomfort was clearly apparent, clearing his throat several times before he found his voice again.

"…How do you have the vile?"

That hesitation the girl displayed before flashed across her face again, only for a brief moment, her hand slipping from the Rat's. Warily, the pooling orbs of violet that framed her youthful face searched each of the Turtle's expression individually, one of her hands finding the length of her hair and fingering several strands. Giving the Master Rat a last undecided glance, she finally swept the hair to one side with a graceful flick of her wrist, exposing the pale flesh of her neck and ear, which was decorated with a spiral gold earring. All of those watching her waited silently as she carefully leaned in, one of her slender fingers pushing the crest of her ear forward, revealing a black tattoo that spun a complex design down her neck.

"You're one of them…"

Raphael noticed that Leonardo seemed to be speaking more to himself than anyone else, grimacing at his brother's intense interest. It's just a tattoo…she's probably not to proud of it either, being a branded label on her from the place she came from. Like cattle, Raphael thought, no individuality, no given personality, just a serial number – how degrading.

"…06…6…9…"

Michelangelo, who obviously had been dissecting the tattoo, his neck crooked awkwardly to read the numbers, leaned a padded elbow on the table and cupped his round cheek, his eyes still tracing over the mark.

"Those numbers…whatta they mean?"

Raphael watched as those big brown eyes of Mike's tore away from the tattoo and focused on the girl, a half smile touching his face. Cocking a curious eyebrow, Raphael saw why his brother was grinning, the girl's cheeks colored a light shade of pink. Heh…she wasn't used to this kinda attention…or at least this positive attention…

"It's a number all beings are given when completed…it's assigned as our name. It's done in a certain order…I was one of the last before the government shut the project down."

"So you didn't have a name? Just a number?"

"…Yes, only a number."

"…Oh."

Raphael caught the sympathetic expression that flickered across his brother's face, Michelangelo's eyes lingering solemnly on the girl's tattoo.

Splinter, who had remained quiet for a while now, took a deep breath and held a concentrated gaze on the girl, his eyes tracing the lines of her tattoo as well.

"Tell me…what triggered this revolution?"

The girl's finger found the vile again, almost instinctively, and she sighed.

"…0037…our Big Brother started it. He was the eldest in my unit, one of the few beings who survived from the first fifty created. Most of his generation died off from genetic imperfections and years of biological and chemical testing…but not him…he was strong. Stronger than all of us. Every year that passed, new generations spawned, supposedly newer and more advanced beings, but they were never like the first. They were more human than any of the others. More human…than even I could fathom being.

"Death was an everyday thing for us…we had all grown accustom to the beatings and torture. The sudden death or disappearance of a fellow soldier. They trained us not to feel pity, remorse, or sympathy – we were soldiers. We were not allowed possessions; attachments…we were not allowed feelings. Death was just that – death. Nothing more, nothing less."

Her tone was indifferent, as if she were still restricted to feel anything at all, making some of the turtles seated at the table with her shift uncomfortably. Her eyes glazing over as she drifted deeper into memory and thought, the monotone in her voice faded.

"It was dusk when it began…I remember the sky being so pretty. The clouds were pink and orange, the sky yellow. I saw it through one of the few windows in the combat room. I…I smiled, I think. Yes, I must have smiled…cause a younger girl saw me, and she smiled too, looking at that same sun set. It was the first time I ever let myself do such a thing…and it felt good. We smiled at each other, smiling because we were smiling."

The corners of her mouth curved upward, reliving her memories.

"I don't know how much time passed before one of the wards came up behind her. I stopped smiling. I wished I hadn't smiled at all. It was my fault."

The girl paused, her eyes wide but distant, the shine of new tears rimming her eyes, her breathing shaky.

"…He hit her. Hard. She covered her face, and he hit her again. Two more wards came up and hit her…again, and again. They didn't stop. Not even when she fell to her knees…not even when she finally let herself scream. They kept hitting her, clubbing her…until she stopped screaming, and moving. Then…they forced her to kneel in front of us all, so we could watch.

"I felt sorry for her. I wasn't supposed to, but I did. I looked at Big Brother…I didn't wanna watch anymore. But he looked back at me, and I could see in his eyes how upset he was. I didn't understand. He wanted me to watch.

"So, I watched. I watched her struggled to stay awake while she was bound and gagged. I watched as she turned her head and looked out the window, the suns' rays shining on her face. It was so bloody…so swollen. She looked at me again, and she smiled. I watched a ward pull his katana. I smiled back at her, and we both looked at the sunset. It was so beautiful. Then the ward cut off her head. He said that she was an example of what will happen if we left ourselves get distracted…and they told Big Brother to dispose of the body."

Those tears that adorned her glossy eyes began to roll slowly down her cheeks, her lower lip quivering. With a slight shake of her head, however, she quickly wiped the fresh tears from her eyes after she gave a weak sniff, glimpsing up briefly at the Turtles. Almost cradling her, the old Rat smiled that warming smile he so rarely displayed, his aged hands stroking her hair softly. He was pure love, Raphael thought while sighing to himself; he was made to care for others.

"It's okay, child…do not feel uncomfortable…"

She nodded.

"That night Big Brother gathered up our unit and burned down the laboratory…and those who escaped fled to the mountains. Many died…only three of us remain alive. I was one of them…Big Brother…and my sister."

Her eyes skimmed over the Turtles faces, each seemingly engrossed in her story, silent as night. Raphael took a small step forward, leaning on the back of Leonardo's chair.

"…What happens after you find your friends?"

"…I don't know."

Silence fell on the kitchen again, the tone of the discussion keeping a lingering fear and seriousness in the air. After several more moments of quiet, Splinter slowly rose to his feet.

"Yin has been kind enough to tell us everything, despite the danger she has put you and herself in. I think we should all take some time to think, but also some time to relax. The issue at hand is awareness; readiness. I advise all of my sons to train today, and to help Miss Yin feel at home."

Raphael took a step back and hopped up onto the counter, his legs dangling over the edge, his hands held casually in his lap, watching as his Master left and brothers' disperse. Leonardo led the girl slowly into the den with a quiet Donatello following behind the two, Michelangelo waddling across the room toward Raphael, dropping his empty cereal bowl in the sink.

"That was too deep for me, man. I can't believe all that terrible stuff happened to her."

Michelangelo spun around and rested his back against the counter, his thumb and fore finger cradling his chin in a thoughtful manner.

"Yea…it's sad. I bet she wasn't eager to share it with us, either."

"I have a feelin' we're in for a hellava ride."

Shooting his brother a quick glance, Raphael gave a heavy sigh.

"I have a feeling too…but it's definitely not a good one."


	5. MC: Nightmares

**Author's Note:** Another mini chappy, woo! XO Just trying to build up more character and feeling. Lemme know what cha thing:B

**Chapter Rating:** PG-13, for harsh language.

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**MINI CHAPTER II: Nightmares**

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He stood silently in the frame of his room's doorway, standing very still in the dark. He stared into the black nothingness of the hallway, his eyes fixed on where the entrance to the den's living room would be. Taking slow, measured breaths to keep quiet, he listened to her dream.

Or rather, listened to her nightmares.

It was her nightmare that had woken him. It was her nightmares that always woke him. His room was the closest to the den, and the first night she had slept in their dwelling, he had thought he had heard something suspicious moving. The rustling of clothes had slowly distracted him from sleeping, and the soft murmurs he heard soon after yanked him out of sleep. His body tingled with alarm and readiness that first night, and he remembered he had his sai in his hand for the possible intruder. It was then that he realized it was only her, gasping and sobbing in her sleep. Every night, it was always her. Always having a nightmare.

Standing in that doorway, Raphael continued to listen to her, his brow steep and lined with concentration. This was the only time since that first night that he had gotten out of bed to listen, and it was a lot more difficult to stay and listen to her than it was to apprehend that possible intruder that night. She made sounds that made him think of things he really didn't want to think about.

Cautiously, he forced himself to creep toward the den, his foot falls as silent as the lair around him. The hallway around him was shrouded in blackness, but by memory and his heightened senses he reached the den's entrance, peering into the dark at her restless form. With baited breath he listened, hearing her body writhe and roll on the couch cushions beneath her. She moaned softly and breathed quickly, sounding frantic. Raphael's eyes remained set on the space where the couch would be in the darkness, practically watching her thrash even though the room was black.

It was the same thing every night. She moaned and panted, writhed and panicked. And then she would cry. That's what would keep him up. Longer after her nightmare would end and she would restart her sleep cycle, he remained awake. Her sobbing pulled at the pit of his stomach, made it ache with discomfort. Her sobs echoed with such suffering, her moans were of such misery…he couldn't stand it anymore. But he didn't know what he could do.

Stepping closer to the couch, he listened still, hearing her wriggle weakly in her sleep. Her panting had now become strained sobs. She whimpered softly and twisted under her blanket, and after another step in her direction, she suddenly went silent.

He tensed.

The sound of her on her feet and moving was almost inaudible, but his experienced senses knew exactly where she was. Her panicked breathing from moments before was now measured and quiet. The whispers of her clothing and foot falls were now unheard, and only by his years of ninjitsu did he sensed her moving closer. Instinctively he raised his defenses, recognizing her alarm and fear and knowing that it could possibly lead to an attack.

"What are you doing?"

Her voice sounded tired and weary, and was barely above a whisper. It came from across the couch.

"…You woke me up."

It wasn't really an answer, and his tone wasn't very friendly, but it was all he could think of. He suddenly felt uncomfortable and defensive, being caught like this, and didn't have a plan for 'if she woke up'. He felt his cheeks heat up at being caught in the act of spying, and desperately wished he had chosen the 'I don't give a shit' mentality. At least he wouldn't be in this situation.

"…You heard me?"

Her soft, perplexed tone ebbed the frustration he was feeling, but he still longed to slip away and back into the comfortable darkness of his room. He didn't have to explain himself to his room. After an extended silence, he backed away, heading toward the safety of his bedroom.

"Please don't go."

It wasn't her request that made him stop, but her tone. The fear in her voice caused his feet to become immensely heavy.

"Please don't let me have that dream again."

Slowly, he turned and took a step back into the den, peering at her through the darkness. His insides twisted and fought with his emotions, wanting to walk away and forget her and at the same time wanted to know and help her.

"What dream?"

He was first answered by the night's silence and her soft, slow breathing. If it wasn't for his growing curiosity he would have walked away then and there, and he could sense her struggling with her words. Her whisper was very low and empty when she answered.

"It's the same every night. I'm running for my life…and then I just fall. I fall into nothing. I fall forever."

Her voice trembled with the feelings from her memory, and he heard the couch cushions sigh beneath her as she sunk into them.

"I never stop falling…and I'm frightened. I'm alone and scared and falling forever. It makes me cry 'cause I'm so frightened…so alone…"

The gloom in her tone matched the sobs echoing in Raphael's head from the nights before. She spoke as though she were by herself, and that somehow made him feel very sorry for her. She continued on, quietly.

"I think it's because I have no control anymore. I react and behave and…struggle because all these emotions that I was taught were wrong to feel. I have no control…I have no purpose."

His eyes narrowed in confusion as he played over the last few words she said.

"I was made to do one thing only – follow orders without question. And now I do not do that anymore. I cannot do that anymore. I cannot assassinate a target and his wife with three children anymore. So now…I serve no purpose. The thing I was made for, I cannot do. How do you go on and make a life…when you realize that all you were made for was to take it? And when you realize you were never meant to have a life of your own."

Her tone dropped down another somber note and she stuttered a sob.

"I'm a ghost. I'm a body with no name or history, that's not supposed to even exist. And now I realize it…and I feel it. I really wish I hadn't discovered how to be more human…to experience emotion. Then I wouldn't know how really worthless I am."

For some reason, anger sparked deep in Raphael's chest. The sadness that was trickling slowly down his heart for her suddenly vanished and was replaced with intense irritation. He sauntered over to her, his brow set steeply and grabbed her upper arms, pulling her to her feet roughly.

"So you just give up, huh? Feel sorry for yerself? You let everyone else tell you how good yer s'pposed ta feel about yerself just 'cause no one told you it's okay ta not know every God-damn thing about the life ahead of you?"

His grasp was tight on her from his mounting frustration, and with a great deal of effort he tried to keep his voice down.

"So you have no said purpose now – so what! I'm a fuckin' mutant _turtle_ and I can still get out of bed and live a fuckin' life! I'm not even suppose'ta exist either, but you better believe I'm gonna live and laugh and all that shit! I'm _not_ gonna feel sorry for myself while I do it, either."

That was a lie. He and self pity knew each other well, but that wasn't gonna stop him from making this girl listen to some sense. She had a lot more of chance of leading a normal life than he did, and he wanted her to see that. He felt her trembling in his grip, and he felt her warm breath against his face as he watched her through the darkness, nose to nose.

"Don't let people decide how you should feel and act – _you_ decide that. And you shouldn't take any shit from anybody who tries to make ya do something other than what _you_ want. I _know_ you don't, I saw you be YOU that first night we met. You make up yer own purpose, just like you made it yer purpose to protect that damn vile. That's being a real person Yin, and that's how I _know_ I'm a fuckin' person and not just so God-damn freak. I make my fuckin' destiny, not wait for it to find me."

Raphael realized he had begun to shake her, and released her abruptly, dropping his hands with a sigh. His insides were still boiling with his emotion, and he recognized that he was not just saying all this for her sake. He may be emotional and frustrated, but he could recognize an epiphany when he sees one.

Yin was silent and shaking in front of him, her breath shallow. Raphael gazed hesitantly into the dark space where he knew her eyes would be, and debated anymore discussion. Well, lecture. Not discussion. Suddenly Leonardo popped into his head and he cringed. Something else needed to be said now.

Reaching out, he rested a hand lightly on her arm where he had so tightly gripped her, rubbing the bruise he knew could possibly be there with remorse. His heart blazed with frustration and lurched with sympathy all at the same time, and he realized how much he and she had in common. Suddenly, he couldn't help but feel a little less lonely. A little more understood. He dropped his hand after a careful and meaningful squeeze on her arm, switching his tone to something more friendly. Friendly was hard due to his riled feelings, but he tried none the less.

"Yin…I don't mean ta yell. I just want you to know that yer not worthless. You've got people right here in this lair who care if you live or die. And someone right in front of you who don't regret meeting you that night, and bringin' you down here. Someone who can understand what yer goin' through."

Letting her absorb that for a moment, Raphael turned. He took a step toward his room when her hand found his, making him freeze. Her fingers were slender between his, and she squeezed weakly around one of his two fingers.

"Don't go yet. Please? Don't go 'til I fall asleep?"

Raphael felt sleep tickle his calming body, and at the same time a warming, happy feeling well in his chest. The warring emotions that were twisting his innards all the time came to a slowing stand still, soothed by the genuine want and need in her voice. The acceptance and respect in it.

It felt good.

He led her to the couch and waited until she laid down beneath the blanket. Meandering over to the armchair, he sat down and watched her in the darkness, listening to her breathing. When he heard it slip into the slow rhythm of slumber, he crept out of the room and into his, closing the door.

He slept until morning with no further interruptions.


	6. There Had Better be a Heaven

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry I keep re-loading stuff guys, but I'm editing my grammar and stuff! XE

**Chapter Rating:** R, for language, innuendo, and a mild sexual scene.

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**CHAPTER FOUR: There Had Better be a Heaven**

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He dodged right, then made a quick dart to the left, catching the katana aimed at his arm with both sais, pulling the weapon free from his opponent's grasps with a nimble twist. Only seconds after, the other katana lurched out at his ribs, but sharp reflexes developed from years of ninjitsu promptly kicked in, making him twist sharply and spin before using the blunt of his sai to knock his competitor down with a well-executed blow to the back of the head.

"Damn…!"

A self-satisfied smirk spread across Raphael's face, his brother's audible displeasure from being knocked to the floor a welcome sound. He and Leonardo had been sparring for a couple hours now, but Leonardo didn't seem quite up to par today, being caught off guard by several of Raphael's attacks. Raphael figured his lack of focus was probably due to what had happened earlier that week, a memory of the girl staring at him from across the table popping into his head.

"Raph, let's call it a day…I gotta head over to April's soon."

After giving an irked sigh he nodded, watching Leonardo climb to his feet and head into the sewer den, smiling to himself again when he saw his sibling rub the back of his sore head. Victory was his; Raphael had beaten his brother today with ease, and it felt good.

After stretching out his working muscles and doing a few dozen push-ups, Raphael scooped up his water bottle and headed toward the hall. His bladder was full, and as much as he had to go he froze when he reached the bathroom door. The warm scent of a watermelon-laced shampoo wafted out the door, followed by a hint of a body. Taking in a slow breath, he inhaled a fragrance that _had_ to be the best way he could imagine a woman smelling.

God damn…how quickly he had forgotten about the way scents affected him.

Stepping into the bathroom, he closed the door behind him, the steam from the shower still swirling around and swimming with her smell. Whatever attraction to the girl he had been fighting now leapt forward from his body, devouring her aroma and imprinting on the scent. He felt his body reacting, and with a groan he forced it back.

He hated reacting like that. It always reminded him that there was still a wild animal inside…

After subduing his inner beast and finishing in the bathroom, Raphael headed for the kitchen. He was initially going to take a shower as well, but decided against it. Instead he turned on the fan in the bathroom, hoping that it would dissipate that alluring aroma enough to where he could shower and not lust at the same time.

"Donny…Donny look. You gotta look."

Raphael stopped abruptly upon entering the kitchen, his eyes widening at what was in front of him. Trying to stifle his laughter, Michelangelo was facing him on a stool, with Yin-colored hair on top of his head. He had made a temporary wig out of Yin's hair by having her stand behind him, back to back, and letting her hair drape over his head. Donatello was on the opposite side of the table, trying his best to look unimpressed. Raphael choked on his own laughter.

"…You look like Cher."

Yin was trembling with muffled giggles, trying her best to stand still. Michelangelo beamed, and pretended to brush his hair back.

"Don't hate me cause I'm beautiful."

The lisp he put onto his words finally got a smile out of Donatello.

"You tell him Mike; I'm here, and I'm queer, so get used to it."

"Psh, you know I'm fabulous."

By this time Michelangelo's hair had fallen off his head, due to Yin bent over the table, laughing. Donatello was almost in tears, covering his face as he tried to quiet himself. Raphael shook his head and headed for the fridge, his own laughter already dying off.

Michelangelo grinned ear to ear and eased back against the side of the table, his hands coming together comfortably behind his head. Shooting a gleeful smile at the girl giggling beside him, he turned to Raphael.

"Leo wants us to bring April down to talk to her. She can probably help Yin a lot more than we can. Donny and I are gonna leave for Aprils' in a minute…you wanna come?"

Raphael shook his head over the door of the fridge, reaching in and grabbing a soda.

"I reek. I'll catch up after a shower."

"A'right. Leo's already surface-side, so we'll be heading out now."

Nodding, Raphael watched as his brother hopped up and stretched, cracking the joints in his neck while Donatello reached for his Bo leaning against the wall. Mike crossed the kitchen and grabbed his and Donatello's mask, balling his brothers up and lobbing it at him before tying his tightly across his eyes, touching Yin on the shoulder shortly after.

"We'll only be gone a couple hours. Splinter'll keep ya company and probably offer you a chance to meditate with him, and Raph…well, he's Raph. Dunno if he's up for entertainin' ya."

The grinning Michelangelo chuckled when he heard Raphael snort, plodding out the kitchen doorway with Donatello, the girl following close behind them.

Shaking his head, Raphael headed for the shower, pulling his pads and weapons off along the way. Deciding that the scent had now lost its potency, Raphael set his stuff down and turned the shower head on. Stepping in, he let the water pressure drizzle water down his sore body. He pulled his mask free and tipped his head under the spray, rubbing the warm water around his face. Every now and then a breath of Yin's scent rushed his senses, and in the privacy of the shower he relished it, allowing the fragrance to wash over him.

Raphael was slowly realizing that, not only was he more than a little attracted to Yin but suppressing his attraction toward her was actually amplifying it, and it wasn't just the smell of her that was getting to him. The way she looked at him, when their eye's connected…it pulled at his curiosity. She was always somewhat distant and timid when it came to conversation, but he knew there was a fiery passion behind her demure persona. He found he enjoyed the challenge of her stubbornness, and getting her to submit and trust him was, for some reason, deliciously gratifying.

Or maybe he just hadn't been with a woman in a while.

After a few more moments of thought, he languidly washed the rest of himself, and patted himself dry. Yawning, Raphael stepped out of the bathroom, equipment in hand, and headed toward his room. Reaching the end of the hall, Raphael opened the door to his room, which was as dark as night due to the lack of windows. Carelessly he fumbled for the light switch next to the door, his fingertips feeling the brush of the lampshade before he flicked the light on. Instantly half of the room flooded with a dull yellow glow, the other half of the room still partially hidden in darkness; all his furniture's outline highlighted with almost a red line.

Haphazardly Raphael started pulling his pads on. Un-balling his bandana, he pulled it across his eyes and tied it tightly. It wasn't until he saw her move out of the corner of his eye before he finally noticed he wasn't alone in the room, his body tensing while he drew in a quick, startled breath. Eyes wide Raphael stared at her, his heart going a mile a minute, his thoughts racing as he put a hand to his chest.

"Je_sus_…you scared the hell outta—…"

He trailed off as he realized that she had been sitting there, in the dark, waiting for him…on his bed.

Raphael's jaw dropped.

His eyes finally began to focus in the dim light, the subtle features and angles of her face and body becoming more apparent. Swallowing hard, his large brown eyes immediately fell upon the narrow slit of her unbuttoned shirt, unveiling the ebony silk of her lacey panties and the naked flesh of her toned stomach, her small navel pierced and decorated with a jeweled ring. Gradually his attentive gaze traveled upward, devouring the barely exposed and shadowed valley between her ample breasts, the shirt open just enough to show just that and nothing more. The alluring thin opening of her undone shirt finally widened into a "V", the delicate contour of her faultless neck and bare shoulder shown to him, the collar of the jersey pulled down slightly to expose the pale skin. Raphael felt his groin grow hot and his body breakout into a cold sweat, his mouth agape as his eyes traced over the feminine lines of her face, their eyes connecting through the heavy wisps of flowing hair shadowing her face. Those rich, violet eyes glowed with a desire that he hadn't taken time to see before, his cheeks reddening from her focused attention on him.

Oh boy…

"Raphael…"

The noise that escaped her lips was barely above a whisper, but it was as melodious as a silver bell to him, a soothing murmur that hinted of a passionate desire. His eyelids grew heavy as her voice echoed in his head; no one has said his name so beautifully.

She said his name again.

"Raphael…come here."

His eyes sliding closed at the sound of her voice again, Raphael nodded, feeling like he was floating over to her rather than walking, sitting down on his bed, facing her. This was too good to be true…

Instantly his thoughts vanished, his eyes widening when he felt her hand on his face, her small, warm palm cupping his cheek while her other hand slid around his arm, bringing it to rest on her hip as she scooted over and straddled his lap. Raphael dropped a slow glance down to where she put his hand, catching a glimpse of her milky-white thighs open and wrapped around his waist. With a shaky sigh, his lame grip on her tightened for a moment, the fabric beneath his fingers wrinkling. He closed his eyes tightly; the only thing separating him from her naked body was this thin piece of cotton.

The thumping of his heart sounded as loud a thunder deep in his chest, and he prayed she couldn't hear it. He was frozen; afraid to move, afraid to touch, afraid to even breathe, gradually noticing every minor detail about her.

The sound of her soft breathing was strangely soothing, her mouth just below his chin… he could even hear her swallow. Her moving hands felt like fire on him, one of them finding the back of his neck, her fingers gently stroking in slow circles. The other hand rested on his shoulder, her palm sliding up and down the length of his bicep, her fingers tracing the lines of his contoured muscles. He could smell her hair, the mild fragrance of her shampoo…that same, enticing smell of watermelon. He took another deep breath, the delicious smell filling his senses…watermelon has never smelled so good.

"Do you trust me?"

"…Heh?"

"Do you trust me, Raphael?"

All Raphael could do was nod slowly, his eyes rolling back when he felt her moistened lips brush the flesh of his neck after she spoke, kissing the green flesh under his chin, the sensation sending chills down his spine. The muscles of his neck clenched, her gentle lips on him making the heat of his loins stiffen as she spoke.

"I trust you. I trust you with my life. Would you do something for me?"

Slowly, after a few moments of intoxicating silence, he found his voice.

"What's that?"

His eyes opened up just enough to look down at her.

"Will you take me?"

He wasn't sure if he heard what he had thought he heard.

"…What?"

"I want you to have me. I care for you…and I don't think it was an accident when you found me that night. I want you to touch me…to make this ache I feel for you in my body to go away. I've never had it before…and I want to share it with someone I trust. I respect. I want you to take me."

His head was swimming…but somewhere off in his mind a warning went off. The first...? She's offering herself to _him_, of all people. But, the alarm grew louder in his head, screaming at him -- _he shouldn't be the first to have her, he shouldn't have her at all_. Oh…he wants her so bad, though. It can't be wrong…it's not fair if it's wrong…if he can't…

"Please, Raphael…take me…"

_They're two different people, two different species…it's dangerous to touch her, dangerous to even want her, to let her get close_...but she felt so good. She was so beautiful…he must touch her…it hurts not to…

"Raphael…"

Her voice was almost a pained whine now; she was as hungry for him as he was for her. The pressure of her hands moving down his body made him draw in a sharp breath, feeling them slide back up slowly, rubbing over his chest plate before wrapping around his neck, pulling his face closer to hers. Please don't, Raphael begged to himself, you're making this so hard…

"Raphael…please say something, _do_ something…"

He felt himself pulsing to a point, pushing up painfully against the inside of his shell when she whimpered his name and pressed her lips against his. His entire body ached as he held himself back, her pleading murmurs in between kisses sending him into a daze. She leaned into him, coaxing him to touch her, almost begging, and Raphael shivered when he felt the swell of her breasts press against him.

His head was pounding…_he mustn't allow himself to touch…it's dangerous…do not love back…_

"…Raphael..."

Mustn't touch…mustn't allow yourself to love… 

"_Please_…touch me…"

Mustn't allow yourself to love… 

"Please, Rapha—"

"Stop. Please, just…just don't."

His command sounded forced and agonized when he pulled away from her, carefully tugging her arms free from around his neck and scooting down to the end of the bed, averting his eyes from her while he gaze woefully at the floor. The manhood throbbing between his legs ached; it burned…but he ignored it, his teeth clenched for control. Raphael could hear her heavy breathing, hear her voice cracking as she tried to keep her composure, her hands falling limply to her sides. He sighed.

"Yin, lookit us…we're different people, we're different-_fucking_ species. You really think it's just that easy? Nothing good could come from this…"

Raphael felt his eyes rim with angry tears, her broken-hearted gaze on him making his discomfort worse. He stood abruptly, his muscular arms stiff at his sides. This felt so wrong…but it must be done. This isn't meant to be. She's a seventeen-year old girl…and he—…he's not human. He's a monster. This couldn't be right…

"…You should get dressed."

Raphael surprised himself, his voice sounding cold as he strode slowly toward his door, trying to keep the tears blurring his vision from falling, trying to keep from being weak. He grabbed his weapons and his hand found the cool metal of his door handle, turning the squeaky knob before stepping out into the lit hallway. He refused to look back, knowing what he'd see if he did. This is the way it should be…even if it'll kill off any compassion he had left inside.

Closing the door behind him, he stood still for a moment, his heart heavy, listening. Raphael squeezed his eyes shut, hearing her whimper softly, sobbing. Everything he'd just done, Raphael regretted…but it was too late. He couldn't change it now. Damn him…he was such a fucking fool.

Briskly he sauntered away, swearing under his breath as he wiped his eyes and strapped on his weapons.

"Oh…there had **_better_** be a heaven…"


	7. Bittersweet Realization

**Author's Note:** More re-vamping, making sure any loose ends are tied-up. Me need REVIEWS!

**Chapter Rating:** R, for harsh language, innuedo, and sexual themes.

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**CHAPTER FIVE: Bittersweet Realization**

* * *

Dusk had just settled onto the city, the stray wisps of sunlight that escaped the horizon beginning to fizzle out, the gleam of a crescent moon now beginning to illuminate the city sky.

Peering warily though the glass of April's third story apartment window, Raphael watched his brothers hover around her computer monitor, all of them motionless and listening intently as she pointed at certain areas on the screen and spoke. The room was dark, barely lit by the bright blue glow of the monitor, and slowly Raphael's eyes shifted out of focus, seeing his reflection in the window's shiny surface, grimacing at the dark circles under his slightly redden eyes, and the drooping corners of his green mouth.

He looked horrible.

Snarling to himself, he shook his head and then gave a knock on the window, hoping the darkness would hide his exhausted face from the people inside. Michelangelo approached the window and unlocked it, allowing Raphael to push it up with a huff and enter, ducking his head so he could get in and closing the window behind him. Clicking the latch, he strode toward the buzzing computer and silent brothers, Michelangelo at his side.

"Do we smell nice now?"

He didn't answer, stopping shortly behind April's chair and nodding down at her when she threw a glance and a smile at him.

"Raphael, Leo was telling me about your friend…Yin, was it? Well, according to this article I found here, she's the number one fugitive in the Japan, with a three million dollar reward on her head."

"Does it say why?"

Raphael's voice broke at the end of his sentence, causing him to clear his throat in annoyance, furrowing his brow at the glare of the monitor, his glossy brown eyes refusing to focus and read the tiny words displayed on the screen. April's slender finger drew his gaze slowly, moving along the many rows of fine print as she read.

"It says she's wanted for possession of government property, breaking and entering, assault, …and murder."

He could feel his brothers' eyes on him, and his temples throbbed from the awkward silence that had descended on the darkened room. He took a step back, his sweaty palm reaching up to touch his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, and gradually he turned around, walking over to the couch situated on the opposite side of the room, collapsing onto the crisp cushions. Sighing deeply, he draped his arms along the top of the couch and tilted his head back, staring blankly at the stucco ceiling. _Christ_…more good news.

"…I want details."

"On what?"

"Everything, I guess. Tell me what she's stolen."

Raphael's gruff request was answered by the noisy clicking of Aprils' fingers across the keyboard, the data processor beside her uttering a mechanical sigh before it registered her typed command.

"Let's see…thousands of dollars of automatic weapons, hundreds worth of food, a couple cars…and apparently a top-secret military chemical."

Out if the corner of his eye, Raphael caught his brother Donatello taking a step closer to the humming computer, leaning on the back of April's chair.

"Does it say anything else about that chemical? Anything at all?"

"Hmmm…it's called 'Elixir L', and it says that it was a military project supposedly terminated until a terrorist faction got a hold of it, tampered with it, and smuggled it into the United States. Apparently, if this thing is sold on the black market, a whole new means of terrorism will begin…"

The level of April's voice rose slightly as she read, her interest and anxiety increasing, making Raphael snort softly to himself.

"Guys, this is serious. If what you say is true, if your friend has this thing…not only is the Japanese and American government out to get her, but all the violent, trigger-happy scum of the world."

Raphael closed his large hands up into tense fists, closing his eyes at the feel of his wide fingernails sinking into the flesh of his palm, letting out an irritated growl.

"…Fan-_fuckin_'-tastic."

Leonardo clicked his tongue in obvious displeasure at his brothers' colorful remark, causing Raphael to smile a little and languidly lifted his head up, his half-lidded eyes trying to focus on April.

"What else does it say?"

"Not much else. 'Says she's broken in to several houses, probably for supplies, and has assaulted numerous police officers and civilians that she's come in contact with."

"And the murder charges?"

There was a small pause as she placed a hand on the mouse, clicking its tiny buttons several times to scroll down and read.

"This article states that there hasn't been any solid evidence against her, but believe she's responsible for the deaths of Yamota Kyosho and Hitashi Fujo, both former chairmen that represented a multi-million dollar bio-chemical Corporation in the Japanese government before it was accused of crimes against humanity and a plot against the government. Authorities also link her with the murder that happened a couple nights ago near a movie theatre."

Noiselessness fell on the room. Raphael struggled with himself silently, refusing to think of Yin, the only picture willing to flicker across his memory being of her on his bed: her full lips quivering and her dainty brow knitted together in woe, a trembling hand clutching the bedding beneath her half-naked body. No…he wasn't going to remember that. He wasn't going to dwell on that. It's over and done…he has a new, more dangerous task before him – help her now, wallow in self-pity later.

"So? What happens now?"

April spoke up, the silence beginning to bother her. She had no idea of the severity of this situation. Inhaling deeply, Raphael gave each of his brothers a concentrated look before addressing April, meeting their eyes in wordless agreement.

"April…you're asking the right question to the wrong person."

-**_Later_**-

Raphael went rigid as he entered the lair, reaching instinctively for his weapons, the unfamiliar person who had triggered his distress instantly drawing two long daggers from boots hidden under lengthy and baggy khaki pants. April, who had been at the back of the group, let out a soft gasp, and glancing back Raphael saw her plaster herself against the outer sewer wall. The sound of his brother's drawing their weapons followed immediately after, and Raphael grew slightly more comfortable – one to four; she's out-numbered.

"Who the hell are you, and what the _fuck_ are you doing in my den?!"

Taking a threatening step forward, Raphael barked out at the foreign body who challenged his family, who _dared_ to confront him on his own turf. Leonardo moved in front of him, however, his skin stretched tightly across his toned muscles as he addressed her, his voice calm despite the situation.

"Where are they?"

Her eyes narrowing, she gave Leonardo a throaty growl before uttering something softly in Japanese, glancing quickly in the direction of the kitchen as a four-foot rat and a slender young woman emerged. Both looked mildly startled.

"Please, my sons! Lower your weapons…she is not your adversary."

The old rat approached them noiselessly with his hands held out, coaxing his sons out of their defensive state. Leonardo was the first to lower his weapons, his katanas gradually finding their home in the scabbards on his back, and soon Raphael's other brothers' relaxed as well. Giving the strange girl one last glare, Raphael tucked his sais away and stepped further into the lair, hearing April murmur something to Donatello as he persuaded her out of her hiding spot.

"Forgive me, my sons…I did not mean to alarm you. If you will all gather around, I can introduce everyone."

Obediently, Raphael's brothers found any available chairs near their Master, April plopping down on the couch between Mike and Leo; Donatello settling down on the arm of the sofa. Raphael chose to remain standing, behind the couch, still eyeing the intruder that sat beside the wise Rat's tawny armchair. Splinter gestured toward his sons and spoke gently to the stranger.

"These turtles you see before you, child, are my adopted sons…"

Still watching the stranger and ignoring his Master's tale, Raphael noticed she appeared calm and relaxed, in spite of the conflict from moments ago, her weight shifted back on her palms and her long legs hidden by those huge khakis folded beneath her. Her outfit was unusually radical for someone who carried weapons of ninjitsu; her pink tube-top exposing her naked shoulders and cut abs, the small navel in the center of her creamy flesh decorated with two large silver studs. This was not the only piercing Raphael saw, for two small rings adorned her eyebrow and another silver stud embellished the underside of her bottom lip. She seemed to have a passion for cosmetics, Raphael assumed as his eyes traced over her face; her lips were darkened with almost black pencil and her red eyes were heavily shadowed with dark silver.

What? Red eyes?

"…So all of you are a product of neglectful chemical disposal? This…mutation…you underwent was not intentional?"

Raphael's thought was interrupted by the girls' injection, causing him to glower at her before throwing a look at his Master, who answered with a slight nod of his angular head.

"Correct."

"Interesting…"

She ran a pink-and-black sock-sleeved hand through her short-cropped hair, which was brilliant lilac streaked with black. That radical hair, however, didn't hide the curves and corners of a black tattoo that slithered down both sided of her neck, stopping just at her collarbone.

Wait…he's seen this before.

Quickly, Raphael shifted his gaze to Yin, who sat beside the outlandish girl. The large jersey she had been wearing was no where to be found, her small figure dressed in an oriental-style two-piece gown; the top a sleeveless turtle-neck ending several inches below her breasts, the bottom piece cut low and dropping to her ankles, slit all the way up the right side. Both were an emerald green outlined in yellow.

Raphael felt his chest tighten and his throat burn; she looked amazing. Again, as if on cue, the memories from earlier that day flooded his head, causing him to close his eyes and shudder.

No. Not now.

Opening his eyes slowly, he looked from Yin to the unfamiliar girl…who seemingly didn't look to be all that unfamiliar. Both were Asian, Japanese at that…both had the same build…same eccentric eye and hair color. Holy shit…they're twins.

"So…you're the sister Yin spoke of?"

Leonardo chimed into the conversation between his Master and the stranger, breaking Raphael's train of thought…again. Growling under his breath, Raphael gazed at his brother through thick, red eyebrows.

"Christ, Leo. Isn't that obvious? They're twins."

Raphael was answered by a glare from his brother, but he ignored it, his attention now focused on the girl beside Yin. She apparently found his comment to be humorous, a hand concealing her small smile as she spoke.

"Not exactly."

The girl leaned forward, resting her chin in a palm and her elbow on her knee, her other hand held up to her face where she twirled her lip stud between her thumb and finger. Cocking an eyebrow at her casual behavior, Raphael leaned forward, his palms finding the edge of the couch.

"…Not Exactly? What the hell does that mean?"

The small smile on her round face faded slowly as she considered him for a moment or two, glancing sideways at the silent Yin and exchanging unspoken words.

"Am I correct to assume you know…_what_ we are?"

Her voice changed sharply, dropping into a serious and slightly monotone inquiry. A nod from the majority of the room's occupants answered her, and with a sigh, she continued. Her tone, however, remained unenthusiastic.

"Each generation produced by the organization was designed to look different, but every subject in that one particular generation were made to be identical. All the females of the same age looked the same, and all the males of the same age looked the same. The most they did was tweak the chromosomes to alter hair and eye color…minor things like that. Aside from our serial number, it's how they could tell us apart."

"Why?"

April spoke up, leaning in on her knees in intrigue as she question the girl, but made a funny little sound with her tongue when she was answered by Yin, her slight surprise clearly apparent.

"It cost less money to use the same program multiple times. Plus, it would confuse the enemy in battle if several of the same person attacked all at once."

"Oh. I—I'm sorry…but what was your name again? I was expecting only one person when I came…"

"You mean Yin. She was the one you were meant to see. I'm Yom."

After acknowledging her sister, Yom reached over, placing her small hand on Yin's thigh. The two shared a warm smile and Yin moved her hand so that their fingers laced together. This action was very quick and subtle, but Raphael caught it, arching a red eyebrow curiously. Just _how_ close are these two…sisters? With this, a dirty little picture popped into his thoughts, making him take in a short breath silently – Holy Christ. Quickly blinking away that colorful image, Raphael grimaced, sighing loudly through his nose. Fucking hormones…that wasn't meant to happen.

"Yin and Yom, huh? S'gotta ring to it."

From the other side of the sofa, Mike gave a smile to the twins.

"But wait, didn't you say you didn't have names, originally? What made you guys name yerse—"

"Just how did you find this place, Yom?"

Raphael gruffly interrupted his brother's babbling, unhappy with how casually she addressed breaking into their secret lair. He must have caught her off-guard, for the girl shot an insulted glance at him, which slowly melted into a sweet-but-false smile.

"It wasn't all that difficult, really. I just followed your distinct scent…"

Snorting loudly, Raphael crossed his muscular arms and scowled, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Bullshit."

That overly sugary smile didn't fade. The girl leaned forward onto her folded knees and folded together her slender fingers, tipped by brightly colored fingernails of metallic blue, and gazed at him, those piercing rubies beneath her powdery eyelids dissecting the large, amphibious specimen in front of her. Then, very casually, she gave a shrug.

"Don't believe me, huh? Well then. Ask Yin. Perhaps you'll believe her…"

Her red eyes bored into Raphael as if she knew every thought and emotion he had felt about Yin since she ad first arrived. His smile was sugary and almost leering, and Raphael made sure to give her a venomous glower before turning to Yin, who was fiddling with a lock of hair before she spoke up.

"Go ahead, hun. Tell 'em."

"You all have certain glands that release pheromones when ever you get emotional, or excited. They don't all produce the same chemicals at the same time, in fact some are almost unnoticeable…but if you're enraged, or…or anxious, it'll trigger a particular gland that makes a very distinct scent."

"So, naturally, the sewer has a very unique scent."

Yom spoke matter-of-factly, chewing at her cuticle.

"Fascinating, simply fascinating…"

Donatello pressed the tips of his fingers together in front of him, pondering Yom's explanation. After a thought-filled silence, he spoke again.

"If what you say is true…then what has stopped the foot from using dogs to find us?"

A smile answered the question before the girl spoke, her fingers finding her lip stud again.

"The watery conditions make for difficult tracking if they don't have a solid and potent scent to go by. And I said the sewer had a unique scent, but not just this particular area. I could have been searching forever if I just went by _your_ smell, for you've all been through the entire sewer system probably several times. All I had to do was follow the fragrance of watermelon."

Beside Donatello, Michelangelo made a questioning sound in his throat, smiling that familiar smile of confusion.

"What? Why watermelon?"

Pondering this also, Raphael glanced at Yin, his eyes widening in realization. Memories rushed into his head, randomly, before one in specific came to mind. Oh God…

"…It's her shampoo…"

Raphael spoke aloud to himself, his eyes unfocused and half-lidded, unintentionally answering his brother's question. Abruptly he shook his head and shot a glare at his brothers, who ogled him curiously. Looking away, he locked eyes with Yom, who seemed intrigued by his correct answer.

"It _IS_ her shampoo. How did you know, Raphael?"

He scowled at her, her meddling grin deliberately overly sweet and nosey.

"Lucky guess…"

"I'm sure…"

With a sly wink she shifted her attention on to Donatello, continuing her explanation. Grimacing at her, Raphael huffed.

"Yin has been using the same shampoo ever since we escaped. It's always been something mixed with the essence of watermelon. So, I just followed that, and when I saw large turtles come out of a small niche in the sewer, I just put two n' two together."

"I see…"

Donatello nodded, his curiosity satisfied. Michelangelo, grinning next to the now silent Donatello, leaned forward.

"How do you know it wasn't my shampoo?"

Snorting in a very unlady-like manner, Yom gave him a skeptical look. Mike could only grin back, the giggling April on the cushion next to him encouraging him.

"You don't need shampoo Mikey, you don't have any hair."

"Hey, don't insult me like that! I don't make fun of you 'cause you don't have a shell!"

Rolling his eyes, Raphael watched Leonardo fake a glare at his brother's wide smile. Splinter, who had been studying the two sisters through bushy eyebrows and laced fingers, now leaned forward and cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention.

"The hour grows late, my sons; Let us continue tomorrow. Yom…will you be staying here tonight?"

"Only if it's not too much trouble…"

The old rat gave a small wave of his thin, bony hand.

"Not at all. And April…I assume you will be too?"

Seeming to have forgotten herself, April gasped softly, stealing a glance at her wristwatch.

"Oh my…I can't, I'm sorry. Works gonna be hell tomorrow, we have new people coming in. But I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon, I promise."

Already on her feet and heading out the den door, April grabbed her coat and turned.

"I'll fix up my apartment for you two, incase you want to stop by or stay a night or two. They know my number, just call me before ya come…"

Gesturing toward the nearest turtle, April smiled and spun around, shuffling out into the small corridor of the sewers, a pocket flashlight lighting her way moments after.

Yin, turning to Yom, shared an eager smile with her sister, and watched as Yom rushed forward and stopped at the opened door of the lair, laughing out a gracious salutation to the disappearing April.

Turning back, Yom beamed at the rooms' occupants, stretching her arms over her head and sighing. Reaching her sister's side, both approached the Master Rat and gave him their thanks with a low bow, his ears pulling back and he shook his head chastely.

"It is nothing. The couch here pulls out, and is big enough for both of you to share. If that doesn't suit you, I may be able to coax my sons out of one of their rooms…"

The Wise Rat gave his sons an intimidating look, but couldn't conceal the playfulness in his eyes.

"The couch will be just fine…thank you so much, Master Splinter."

Nodding, he turned and pulled several blankets from a dresser cabinet, which sat beside the sofa. Setting them down on a cushion, her bowed shortly to each of the girls, ushering his sons into their own rooms soon after. Raphael followed his Master down the hall to his room, sneaking one last glance at the sisters, his eyes lingering on Yin. Ignoring the small tug at his heart, he gave his brother Michelangelo a nudge in the ribs when he noticed him watching them as well. Huffing at Raphael's impatience, Mike complained loudly, grinning in hopes that the girls might hear.

"They can stay – but tell Yin not to use my shampoo anymore."

-**_That Night_**-

_Her hands languidly traveled along his body, those hot palms and slender fingers tickling and stroking his flesh, gently, while her mouth moved against his; her lips enveloped by his. _

_Jesus…this felt good. _

_His body trembled, a burning desire that lay hidden for so long now flaring, her body melted to his, making it all the worse. _

_Allowing his tongue to mingle and dance with hers, his two-fingered hand found the back of her head, his green digits ensnaring themselves instantly in her silky strands. He couldn't stop himself, he palmed her head and pressed it forward, bringing her lips in closer, so hungry to taste all of her. _

_He must touch her, feel and explore every Goddamn piece of her. _

_With a soft grunt, his other hand located her hips, his palm sliding down far enough to cup her and pulled her close, rewarding him with a small moan. His eyes rolled back into his head, that sound making his throbbing manhood push painfully up against the inside of his plastron. _

_Damnit…he needs release soon, or he might explode right now…_

_Seeming to read his mind, he felt her warm palms trail down his arms and move to his middle, falling slowly toward the fire between his legs. It was agony waiting for her, hearing the sound of her nails dragging across the hard shell; passed his chest…his navel. With a sharp gasp, he finally felt those burning fingers encircle him…_

"…!!"

His eyes snapping open, he held his breath, and every muscle in his body tensed as his eyes darted blindly around his dark room. The beating of his heart roared inside his head, and gradually, Raphael came to. Cussing under his breath, he could hear hushed voices in the den, but only barely, for his heart still pounded in his ears.

Fuck.

Sitting up and rubbing his sleep-heavy eyes with a knuckle, Raphael looked around at his room slowly, grumbling at the fact that he was unable to see a thing in the darkness. Yawning, he finally became aware of the burning sensation in his lap, and reaching down, he felt himself in full extension.

Christ…it was just a dream.

He growled, tearing the blankets off and throwing his legs over the side of his bed. He's not going to be able to get to sleep again, not with this fucking hard-on. Getting to his feet, he tucked himself back into his shell and stumbled quietly toward the door, hoping his presence would go unnoticed.

Opening the door just enough to peak out, he peered into the den, which was lit by the glow from the television in the far corner. His eyes focused in on the couch, watching for any sign that the girls were awake. Stepping out into the darkened hall when he saw no movement, he tiptoed across the hall, making his way quickly and quietly to the bathroom on the other side.

Raphael shot a cautious glance at the den once more before he closed the bathroom door behind him, flicking on the light switch. Overhead, a boxy light-fixture sputtered for a moment and then hummed, a white light bathing Raphaels' skin in its' florescent glow. His eyes burned from the drastic change of dark to light, but ignoring it, he hastily reached over and clicked the door's lock.

Taking a second to allow his eyes to adjust, he moved forward and pushed the lid down on the toilet, collapsing on it soon after. Raphael then sat there, for several moments, staring blankly at the crumbly drywall opposite him and sighed, the throbbing extremity pressed against the inside of his shell reminding him of what he came in this room to do. Growling, he knew he could only ignore it for so long.

With a defeated groan, he stretched out his arm, feeling around carelessly for a hand-towel in the cupboard beneath the sink, and finding one, dropped it on his lap. His fingers then reached between his legs and withdrew his rigid shaft, grasping it tightly.

Raphael let out a long, tired sigh, his hand beginning to stroke rhythmically; carrying out the same intimate procedure like it had done so many other times. The feeling of being dirty or immoral had long since disappeared, this ritual now being more of a bodily function rather than something pleasurable. His breathing growing ragged, Raphael's head lolled and thoughts drifted, that smutty image of the sisters that he had thought of earlier popping into his head, taking advantage of him and fueling his hormones. Through gritted teeth he muffled a moan and released, catching his hot fluid in the towel, feeling it burn into the cloth.

How pathetic…this is what he'd been reduced to. Thinking back, he pictured Yin sitting on his lap, her creamy white bosom pressed up against him. He could've had that…he could have had her. The sound of her soft breathing…the taste of her full lips…the hot, precious feel of her center around his…and he turned it all down.

Hissing loudly, Raphael squeezed his head for one more burst of tantalizing feeling, disrupting his memories as the last of his seed oozed out. Whining silently to himself, he let his grasp fall free from his swollen manhood; his palm sweaty and fingers sticky.

What did he do? He gave that all up…for this? Leaning his head back against the wall behind him, he gazed vacantly up at the ceiling. Like so many other times in his life, Raphael felt regret. Unlike those times, however, this couldn't be shrugged off, or blamed on another. This was one of those times…she was one of those people…that made him hurt just to think about. The question of 'what if', he wouldn't allow himself to imagine, his heart only able to handle so much.

Sniffing abruptly when he felt something warm and wet trickle from his eye, he rose to his feet, wiping his face with his arm. Turning the knobs of the sink as he stood in front of it, he listened to the hiss of the faucet muffle when he held the towel under its' mouth. Stoically, Raphael watched the white solution of semen and remorse flow off the towels' fibers and down the drain. After giving the towel a squeeze, he then began cleaning himself off, tucking his length back into his shell and wiping his hands. Rinsing the sink out, he tossed the towel into the hamper across the room, staring solemnly at his morbid reflection in the mirror above the sink.

Unlatching the door lock and turning the handle, Raphael crept back out into the hall, pausing to check if the girls' were awake again. When his senses were greeted by only the buzzing television he relaxed, heading for his room. His curiosity, however, had other plans, for instead of reaching for the doorknob, Raphael spun around and skulked toward the den, eyeing the couch. As he neared, he could see the ruffled hills and valleys of the blankets, and the two different pillows. Raphael didn't, however, see any head on either of the pillows. His eyes widening, he rushed forward, stopping at the side of the sofa only to whip back the covers, exposing an empty bed.

What the hell?

Raphael's brow knitted together and his eyes narrowed, dashing into the kitchen, and into the hall, searching for the two bodies that were supposed to be sleeping safely in his den. Finding nothing, he swore aloud and sprinted to the nearest room, swinging the door open and flicking on the lamp, his brother Michelangelo waking immediately with a small cry.

"Hey…! What's th'matter with you Raph? Jeez—"

"They're gone."

"What? Lookit the time, Ra—"

Growling, Raphael punched the door and bellowed out at his sibling, too impatient to be nice.

"They're gone, Mike! The girls, Yin and Yom!"

Understanding finally crept onto Michelangelo's face, and he leapt out of bed, and almost onto his face, groping blindly for his mask.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fucking sure! They're gone, as in, not here!!"

"Okay, okay…don't bite my head off…"

Now stomping down the hall toward his Master's room and ignoring his brother, Raphael caught his other two sibling jumping out of their rooms, apparently wretched out of their slumber by his shouting. Leonardo stepped in front of him, blocking his way, already masked and armed, his katanas slung on his back.

"What's going on?"

Glaring past his brother, Raphael roughly shoved his sibling to the side, Leo hitting the wall with a startled gasp, unprepared for Raph's advance. Michelangelo quickly stopped any retaliation from Leo by telling him what he wanted to hear, Raphael sauntering toward the end of the hall where his Master's room lay. The door opened before he could knock, the figure of a four-foot rat emerging. Meeting his Masters' eyes, Raphael opened his mouth to speak, but Splinter spoke for him.

"They're gone."


	8. Ambush and Emotion

Author's Note: Finally! Chapter 6! It was murder to word it, and I didn't know how much I wanted to give away! Please…read, review, enjoy! 3

Rating: R, for mild gore, harsh language, and innuendo.

-----

Chapter 6: Ambush and Emotion

An unanswered phone call to April's apartment caused further alarm amongst the four turtles, who were now making their way silently up the fire escape to her tenement. Their presence went unnoticed as they ascended, their stealth almost habit now; the only thing to betray them being their long shadows dancing along the dark walls and windows, chasing after them.

All of the turtles froze when Leonardo, who led the group, put a hand up to stop them, pointing toward the window that usually allowed them access to April's apartment. The glass gleamed desperately in the moon's oblivious glare, as if trying to get their attention, the jagged corners and points of it's broken body suggesting that foul play was involved. Quickly, the turtles crept toward the shattered window, the shards that littered the fire escape's landing hoping to catch a careless foot and alert anyone within earshot. The turtles, however, slid into the dark apartment noiselessly.

The black of night filled the apartment, the only light that could find its' way into it being that of the moon, it's beams peeking in shyly and coloring the walls. The four brothers dispersed throughout the dwelling, examining the broken furniture, debris, and to their horror, dead bodies that occupied the area in a very reckless manner. One corpse was pinned against the wall by its' head, a blood-encrusted butcher knife holding it's messy spot between the man's eyes, the ski mask that hid it's face covered in dry, flaky blood. The other was reclined rather peacefully in an armchair, its' head bent back at a disgusting angle, alluding that the neck and the spine were no longer connected, the eyes rolled back into it's lifeless head.

Slowly, Donatello slunk into the kitchen area, grimacing at splatters of drywall, fabric, and blood that adorned the countertop, and a third body propped up against the cupboard, it's masked head tucked under a kitchen chair several feet away. Plucking a bloodied steak knife from the door of the refrigerator, Donatello caught his brother Leonardo's gaze, nodding his head toward the carcass in front of him with a whisper.

"A third one."

Sighing, Leo dropped his gaze down to Michelangelo, who knelt down to pick up the shredded couch adjacent to him, uncovering a fourth body while Raphael emerged from the bedroom.

"She's not there."

With a scowl Raphael stared at one of the corpses, trying not to imagine what could have taken place in his friend's home.

"What the hell happened here?"

"I don't know…an ambush by the looks of it…"

Leonardo still whispered even though Raphael hadn't, his steady glare focused on the dead body uncovered by Michelangelo. From across the room, Donatello approached them, eyeing the same carcass.

"Why here? April had nothing to do wit—"

"_Donny?!_"

A muffled whine echoed from behind the door of the coat closet to their far right, a chair bolstered up against the door to keep whatever was in from getting out. Rushing the closet, Donatello hastily kicked the chair away with a flick of his foot, allowing the door to fling open from April's pressure on it.

Stifling a sob, April almost fell into Donatello and threw her arms around his neck, burying her tear-streaked face into his shoulder. Her body trembled violently in his embrace. Donatello's brothers found their way quickly to his side, comforting the weeping April, who tried weakly to string together a sentence in between sobs.

"Oh God…I-I was so scared…there were so many—they c-c-came from everywhere…I didn't want them to d-die! I couldn't help—th-they didn't let me…!"

April's small frame heaved in Donatello's arms, her eyes closed tight as she stuttered and sniffed. Giving her several more moments of comfort, the turtles led April into her bedroom, careful to keep her gaze away from the scattered corpses strewn across the floor, coaxing her out of Donatello's arms and onto her bed. They all sat in silence with the exception of small sobs that echoed through the room from April, who sat stiffly with her knees pulled into her chest. The four brothers watched her with stony expressions, worried that if they spoke up it could incite another fit of sobs.

Michelangelo, who had been hiding in the shadows near the doorway, finally approached her, taking a knee beside her place on the bed and rubbing her back with a murmur.

"April…I know it's not gonna be easy, but we need to know what happened here. Please."

At first, he was only answered by a stifled cry, her face disappearing beneath her disheveled hair when she buried her nose into her knees. Lifting her head enough to wipes her eyes quickly, she sniffed and cleared her throat, holding Michelangelo's gaze. She could only stare blankly for a moment, seeming to have forgotten how to speak, her line of sight shifting to the floor, her lips finally parting as she spoke softly, weakly.

"…I was just about asleep when I got the call. Yin said she and her sister needed my help. I knew there was something was wrong, if they couldn't go to you guys first, but when I asked, she wouldn't say what it was. At least, not over the phone. So, I gave her directions on how to get here."

She paused when a stuttered sigh interrupted her, resting her chin on her knees.

"I was setting up my pull-out couch when I heard them knock, and, after I gave them the grand tour of my place, they settled down in the kitchen. I fixed them some soup, and we talked, we laughed…but something didn't feel right. It felt too…tense.

"Eventually they asked me about directions to the south-western part of the city, near the docks. They wouldn't say where, specifically, but I assumed they were looking for the old motel that shut down years ago. It's the only thing left down there, everything else is just boathouses. But anyway…after that, I said goodnight to each of them, and went to bed. "

Taking in a shaky breath, April glanced around at the four turtles, who listened intently, bringing her wrist up to blot her gritty eyes.

"I dunno how long I slept before I heard a knock on the door. I remember looking at the clock…it was almost eleven…I hadda get up in only five hours. The rooms were all dark; nothing was on 'cept the TV. The girls were still up, wide-awake…and they hid when I opened the front door. I was so tired…I didn't understand what was going on; nobody was there when I answered the door."

Her eyes sparkled with new tears, her gaze distant as she sniffed, rubbing her arm.

"Damnit, I'm so naïve. They knew what was going to happen. But I didn't."

April's voice cracked as a new ripple of sobs over took her. She hid her face again, her entire body tense and small, like she was trying to disappear. Michelangelo continued to rub her back, trying to coax her back into talking, cooing reassurance to her softly. After a few more sharp sobs, she lifted her head again, her voice now high-pitched as she strained to continue talking.

"It all h-happened so fast! I went to close the door, and I heard a crash, then another crash. And then screaming…I-I-I didn't know it was mine until Yom covered my mouth. Before I could do anything, I was pulled into the closet. She j-just held her finger to my lips and told me not to move. And I didn't. I couldn't move, even if I w-wanted to. So, I watched her sneak out of the c-c-closet and disappear behind the door. That was the last I saw her. All I could do was listen – listen and try to k-keep myself from crying out every time I heard something hit the door. I didn't know what to do. I-I-I don't know how long I was in h-here before I heard you g-guys come in. Oh God…I c-c-couldn't help them...!"

Dread filled Raphael's stomach as he listened to April, a million images of what could and did happen flickering across his imagination, his head beginning to spin slightly. Blinking away the dizziness with a grunt, he stepped forward, taking hold of April's shoulders and catching her fearful gaze, trying to speak with all the gentleness he could muster.

"You said they were going to the abandoned motel? Are you sure? I need to kn—"

Abruptly being pulled off balance by a firm hand on his shoulder, Raphael reeled backward. Finding his feet quickly, he jumped toward his brother, glowering, his previously gentle tone changing drastically.

"What th'hell's yer fuckin' problem, Leo!?"

Unlike him, Leonardo was calm, ignoring the obvious contempt in Raphael's question.

"You're my problem, Raph. Don't even think about going after them."

"Don't you tell me what do to, Leo! You know damn well we should go an' help th—"

"No, Raphael! No. We've already gotten too involved to begin with, and to risk even more by trying to save them could get us all killed. Taking them in is one thing, but to jeopardize our secrecy and lives to help someone who we barely know is too dangerous!"

Raphael felt the hot rage begin to bubble under his skin, his whole body buzzing with irritation at his brother's full emotional control. Gritting his teeth, he kept his hands stiffly at his sides, struggling to keep them from swinging out and socking Leonardo right in his big, self-righteous mouth.

"Your outta yer fuckin' mind! We have every reason TO go out looking for them! I can't believe what I'm hearing! You're a fuckin' coward!"

Looking into the burning eyes of his brother, Raphael knew he was starting to push some buttons – And oh, how he _enjoyed_ it.

"Don't you dare belittle me because I refuse to go out and kill myself over some girl that gets you off! I am not going to endanger my friends and family for that…don't you _ever_ call me a coward for doing what's right."

"What's right?! You're gonna let two girls get kidnapped cause of _your_ fuckin' insecurity, and that's right?! _Fuck_ you, Leo!"

"What's right is doing what is in the best interest of everybody, Raph. Not what's best for _you_! You have no right judging _my_ reasoning when you lack it!"

That placid look of control on Leonardo's face was starting to fade as he made a slight advance toward Raphael. Glaring furiously at him, Raphael dared him to take another step, craving any reason to slug his brother.

"You shut your fuckin' mouth! Don't patronize me!"

"Then don't give me a reason to, by being so selfish! They are not our responsibility anymore, Raph! They made that clear when snuck out and put themselves in danger!"

"So we're just gonna turn our fuckin' backs on them, when they need us most?! Outta sight, outta mind!? You're so full of shit!"

"No, Raphael, I'm not full of shit if I can take a hint! If they really wanted our help, they would've asked before they left. They left us, alright! They obviously don't want our help! Can you not grasp that? Or are you too turned on by that damn girl?"

That's _it_.

Red was all that Raphael could see as he came at his brother, shoving him violently, managing to knock him back a couple steps, despite his brother's ready stance.

"Leo – Fuck you! FUCK YOU!"

Unhappy with how little the push affected his brother, Raphael lunged at him again, swinging a fist out, and when he didn't feel it connect, used the momentum of his swing to spin and snake a foot out at Leonardo's middle. Instead of meeting his plastron as planned, Raphael hit his brother's guarding arm, and was pushed away roughly. Righting himself quickly, he advanced again only to duck when Leonardo swung swiftly at him, just missing his face but prompting Raphael to swing at him in defense, missing Leonardo's head and hitting the dresser mirror with a loud crash.

A shriek from April startled Raphael; the turtle had forgotten he was not alone with his brother. Nervously, he looked at the faces of his other siblings and his friend staring at him, their expressions all of disbelief. Michelangelo had put himself between Raphael and Leonardo, a nunchuku drawn, and Donatello was holding his brother back. April had broken down into tears again.

Unable to speak, and still boiling with anger, Raphael bolted for the window, slipping out and vanishing into the darkness. He scaled the apartment building rapidly, squinting as large, loud rain droplets threw themselves at him, trying to blind him, fueling his irritation. Swearing through gritted teeth, he leapt to the ledge on the top of the building, storming toward the emergency exit toward the left corner of the roof, his tightly clenched fist creating a dent in its' steel door.

This is bullshit!

The thought of strangling his brother with his bare hands made Raphael smile sourly to himself, the thrill of seeing that pious expression of Leonardo smothered away all too appealing right now. How could Leo say those things? How is rescuing someone who desperately needs it the wrong thing? He felt like he could explode, he thought as he gruffly wiped the trickling rain from his face, he felt like he could scream his rage forever.

Dropping to his knees quickly, he punched the cement of the roof, droplets of warm rain water splashing, pain shooting up his arm like electricity. He didn't care…this pain is nothing compared to what he'll do to those who ambushed April. Those who tried to hurt his friend. Those who took them away…who stole her from him. With a throaty cry he brought down his other fist, cracking the concrete slab he was kneeling on, the now reddening puddle splashing up more and speckling his face, both fists now throbbing. Closing his eyes to try to push back the pain, he leaned forward on his palms, letting his head hang loose, listening to the loud pattering of rain pummel his shell and flesh with heavy drops.

Thinking back, he remembered what his brother said, about the twins. The girls left them…they went out on their own, without even a call, or a letter, or anything. They left, and didn't even ask for any help.

Pursing his lips and swallowing hard, Raphael slowly opened his eyes, watching the black rain dribble down his arms. He felt other droplets drizzle off his head and on to the cement, the night around him unable to mask the bloody puddle his hands lay in.

Leo was right…as much as he hated to admit it, he was. They left him. _She_ left him.

A sharp ache in Raphael's chest caused him to reel forward slightly, a hand pressed to his plastron, over his heart. What is this…heartache? He took in a deep breath, looking down at his chest, as he felt the painful lump move to his throat. No…he wasn't going to cry over this! He deserves this, he pushed her away…she didn't belong to him, anyway. She had every right to leave. Even if he didn't get to have her. Even if he still wanted her.

His eyes squeezed closed again, trying to hold those hot, bitter tears back. He found someone who saw right past his red mask, his green skin, someone who wasn't intimated by his cold exterior…and he drove her away. Leaning back into a slouched, kneeling position, he stared down at his cut and bleeding knuckles, imagining his hands cradling her white, silky wrist…his hands holding her to his body. He recalled her porcelain face framed by those violet eyes, those full red lips, how she was only a breath away, a kiss away…and how he never allowed his lips the luxury of her taste. Hunching back as the sobs finally broke through his weakening defenses with a violent shudder, he hung his head, his hands cupping his face. Raphael's palms pressed into his burning eyes, trying to rub away the tears that began to mix with the large rain droplets, stuttering softly.

He lost. He lost everything he'd gained in the past weeks.

He'd been so worried about what would happen, or should happen, that he missed one of the better opportunities to see what _could_ happen in his life. He lost his happiness…he lost _her_. All he had now was his bitter regret.

Covering his wet face with his hands, he stammered another sob, anger slowly melting into sorrow. God-damnit all…why did this hurt so bad? Why couldn't this be someone else's problem…someone else's fault. Stammering a quiet cry, he wiped his eyes with his forearm, weakly shifting his weight so he could lean against the cool wall of the door's hut in the roof, his padded elbows resting on his bent knees, staring blankly at the ground. Raphael couldn't get his eyes to focus. He felt like all the energy and life had just been sucked from him. Uttering a small, defeated sigh, he closed his eyes, letting whatever tears that entered his eyes fall, joining the dance of rain drops that fell carelessly to the rooftop.

It wasn't long before Raphael heard the door to his left open. His red brow dropping sharply, he growled out venomously, refusing to open his eyes.

"I'm NOT in mood, Leo."

Feeling the tiny prickles of anger on his skin again, he waited for a response, hoping just maybe he'd be given an excuse to let his brother have a nice shiner.

"…He knows."

His eyes opened wide when he was answered by a female voice, seeing Aprils' figure step out from the door, outfitted in a large, gray sweatshirt, washed-out jeans, and huge umbrella. Immediately he regretted his tone from moments ago, searching Aprils' face in hope that she wasn't offended. She seemed to read his mind.

"It's okay, Raph. Really. Could I…join you?"

Looking down, his first thought was 'no'. He was brooding right now, and to top that off, crying as well…but when he looked back at April, noticing the dark circles under her swollen, glossy eyes and her ghostly white face, he realized he wasn't the only one who's upset about all that's happened. Company couldn't hurt. He knew misery loved it.

He nodded shortly.

Taking a seat beside him and crossing her legs under her, April scooted over next to Raphael, leaning up against him and the wall, setting up the umbrella behind them so they could share it. He was wide however, being a muscular, shelled mutant and all, so the umbrella only sheltered his head and one shoulder. April brought her knees up to her chest, leaning in closer to him with a shiver. Giving her a sideways glance, he smiled inwardly, enjoying the warmth of her body and the comfortable atmosphere she emitted. She sighed.

"So…"

Raphael snorted a slight chuckle at her.

"…_So_."

He felt April hesitate.

"They're gone, ya know. They wanted to stay, to make sure I was on my way to a friends', but I told them to go home. They asked me to tell you to come home, too."

Shaking his head, Raphael didn't respond. He didn't want to go back to the den. If he went back, he'd be forever plagued by what could and did happened in the walls of his room. April appeared to sense his tension, adjusting her legs awkwardly.

"…That's not why I came out here, Raph. I know I don't need to tell you to come home…and I know that right now, you probably don't want to. I _know_ you, Raphael. I know you so well. I know…that you'll want this, right now."

Reaching into the pocket that curved across the belly of her sweatshirt, she pulled out something that wasn't bigger than the palm of her hand. It glimmered in the early moonlight, and instantly he knew what it was, April dropping it into his hand.

"The vile."

As he examined the vile, April returned her hand into her pocket, withdrawing something else. Handing it to him, Raphael froze, staring at a small folded piece of paper. It had his name on it, written in Japanese.

It's from her.

"She gave these to me before I went to bed. She wanted me to give the vile to the authorities…and that to you."

Swallowing hard, Raphael gingerly set the vile down between him and April, bringing a shaky hand up to unfold the crisp piece of paper. Forcing his gritty eyes to focus, he began reading the finely written words flowing across the width of the paper:

'_Raphael, _

_  
'I apologize for leaving your home without proper notice, but Yom_

_and I have no time to spare. I'll explain:_

_  
'Yom has found Big Brother. He contacted her from his post here in _

_New York__. He is to meet us at the motel by the docks, and we're all to go _

_to__ the American authorities and give them the vile, so we can finally_

_be__ free of the organization and our life on the run. I don't trust transporting_

_the__ vile out in the open, so I asked April to bring it to the police _

_station__ at __noon__, when all three of us will meet her there, and turn _

_ourselves__ in. _

_  
'I am sorry, Raphael. I wish I did not have to leave like this. I wish_

_I did not have to leave you. I'd like you to know I will not forget _

_you__ and your families generosity. Although I did not make the best _

_impression__ on you…I will always remember you. I hope you'll _

_forgive__ my impulsive behavior. My intention was not to offend you._

_  
'I may not be entirely human, or familiar with emotion, but I am _

_beginning__ to understand some of the concepts. I think I understand _

_what__ it means to love. I understand that love is not sacred to humans only,_

_and__ that many believe love conquers all. I have heard that _

_to__ say it to someone whom you've only known for a short while is _

_foolish…__so I guess that means that I am a fool. _

_  
'I love you, Raphael. _

_  
'Please take care of yourself, _

_  
'__Yin'_

Raphael's eyes lingered on the signature at the bottom, tracing the loops and ridges, struggling to understand why she would say such things. She actually feels sorry for what she did? A sob caught in his throat, and he made a noise like he wanted to cough. He felt April's eyes on him, and thanked whatever higher power there was that she didn't hear that sob, sharply turning his head to catch her gaze. She broke the eye contact quickly, not wanting to spark any of his suspicion.

"I didn't read it, Raphael. You know I wouldn't."

Drawing his eye line slowly back to the small paper, he nodded, closing his eyes and folding the paper back up.

"I know…"

Silence fell between the two of them, the rain finally deciding to stop its' wild tantrum and calming to a light sprinkle, dusting the letter held tightly in Raphael's grip with a light mist. He stared blankly at it, his thoughts chattering away with a million emotions, and ideas, unable to decide what to do. She honestly thought she offended him? How? Why? How could she think something like that?

Wait. He knew how.

Gritting his teeth, Raphael felt a stab of guilt as he thought back, recalling how coldly he had turned her down, how unwanted he must have made her feel. God-damnit! Why the hell did he do that? He was an impulsive person. He knew it, he wasn't too stubborn to deny it. But the one thing he put any real thought into was one of the worst things he regretted. And he was going to live with that for the rest of his life.

"What are you going to do?"

He was jolted back to reality by the sound of April's whisper, glancing up at her when she pulled her knees in tighter to her chest, her eyes intense and unsure. She was afraid of his answer, what ever it was. He didn't even know. Gazing at his friend with an emotionless expression, he touched her cheek, brushing away wisps of her wild bangs, contemplating. He could go home, tell his brother off, and live with this…or he could go out and try to make it right. The choice seemed obvious, but how to go about it was the difficult part. It was _always_ the difficult part.

"…You're gonna go after her?"

April's question wasn't really a question at all; she had read his expression. Raphael dropped the hand toying with her bangs and hunched his shoulders, rubbing his face roughly. His eyes were burning and gritty, he knew he was tired. Sleeping, however, wasn't part of his plan. If you could call it a plan. Looking down at the small letter between his big fingers, he laughed softly to himself, speaking quietly.

"Why'd you say 'her'? Don't you mean 'them'?"

Turning his head slightly, he watched her stare intently at him, pondering her words carefully, her mouth and nose hidden behind her knees. Raphael knew she didn't want to say anything to offend him, and frankly, he didn't feel he could be, right now. He trusted her enough to hear her opinion, and know it wasn't to insult him.

"I saw the way she looked at you. She…she wanted you. It was in her tone of voice, in her body language, in her eyes. And…I saw it in you, too."

Instantly, he scowled reflexively, masking the want he thought she saw, but dropped his head, knowing there was no point in hiding it. Frowning, he looked away, the fresh wound April had peeked at still seriously hurting. A gentle hand on his cheek brought his face back toward April, however, her fingers guiding him to look at her, her expression not one of judgment.

"Raph, you shouldn't be ashamed of your feelings, or how you show them. I'm really not the one to give advice…but I think that if you keep all those feeling bottled up…you'll lose yourself in them."

"But April, I don—"

A shake if her head and a finger to his lips stopped his interruption. He could only stare solemnly into her eyes as she cupped his cheeks, still holding to his gaze. He knew she must be tired, she looked it. No, not tired; exhausted. April smiled weakly.

"I'm your friend. I'm not here to argue. I'll support whatever you do. I just want you happy. And if that means going out after them – after _her_ – is going to make you happy, I'll still support you."

Raphael sat silently, slowly absorbing what his friend had said, his rain-soaked face still held gingerly between her hands. Drawing a steady hand up to cover her cool fingers, he tried his best to smile, unable to display his gratitude. His eyes widen, however, as he watched her lean into him slowly, her warm lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

…What?

Frozen, he awkwardly puckered his lips and kisses back, feeling a hot breath come out through her nose, watching April lazily pull her face away, her eyes still closed as a distant smile played on her lips. Her eyes opening halfway, she shrugged her shoulders with a casual smile, turning back and wrapping her arms around her knees, gazing out at the lightly falling rain.

"What should I tell your brothers?"

Still looking at her with mild confusion, Raphael touched a finger to his lips, licking them to get a quick taste of her, not sure if he should have enjoyed that. Blinking, he glanced at the letter, and then at the vile, still sitting between them, considering her question.

"Tell 'em…I'm out for the night. If they're not satisfied, send 'em to the docks. I'm sure they'll figure out what to do."

Glancing at him with a nod, she rested her chin on her knees, watching him duck to avoid the umbrella as he stood up, walking back into the warm rain. Reaching down to her, Raphael handed her the letter, and the vile.

"Give the vile to the police. But…hold onto the letter, okay?"

April nodded again, safely tucking both back into her pocket. Initially, Raphael turned to leave, but again, his curiosity got the better of him, making him look back.

"April?"

"Yea?"

"Why'd you do that? I mean, I'm not mad, or anything. But…I really, uh—I dunno. I don't understand…"

Grinning, April shook her head, chuckling lightly despite her exhaustion.

"I don't know. I guess…it was curiosity. I wanted to know what she had to look forward to."

Raphael echoed her chuckle, feeling a blush warm his cheeks. Spinning on his heels, he waved to her over his shoulder, jogging across the rooftop to the ledge, disappearing into the night.


	9. Unexpected Betrayal

Author's Note: You wouldn't believe how the words just kinda poured outta my head and on to the paper. I wrote this a lot quicker that expected, but I'm happy with it. And hey, I got another surprise, just for you guys. ;) Read and find out! Oh, and BTW: when ppl speak in Japanese, it'll be in backslashes.

Rating: R, for harsh language, gore, violence, and implicated rape. (It dun violate the anti-NC-17 dealy…dun worry!)

-

Chapter Seven: Unexpected Betrayal

He stood silently, gazing at the two-story building with suspicious, hostile eyes, his hardened and tense body hidden by the shadows of a nearby boathouse, which was adjacent to the dilapidated motel. It was obvious no one stayed in it anymore, but it wasn't vacant – two of the windows on either side of the main doors were lit up with yellow light. They were like yellow eyes, he thought stoically, evil things peering at him through the darkness. In the glare of those lights, the ground shined with moisture from the light shower still dancing it's way across the city, and the air around him was muggy, humid. Uncomfortable. His comfort, however was the last thing on his mind.

"/This is stupid. No one will come for them, they have no allies./"

Raphael's attention shifted to the man pacing the length of the motel's entrance, a baton clapping into his hand illustrating his impatience. He was dressed in the usually thug-wear: black pants, shirt, and mask.

"/Will you shut up? You've said that already./"

His accomplish displayed no impatience, but more annoyance with his partner. Neither looked like they were aware of Raphael's presence, cuing him to slink closer, pressing up against the side of the motel, listening.

"/Well, it's true. It's pointless./"

"/If you really think so, you go let _him _knowyou quit. And then tell me how that goes./"

Both of them quieted, and the impatient one shot his partner a glare, which was answered by a taunting whisper.

"/No? Then shut up and do as instructed./"

With a loud sigh, one of the men stamped toward Raphael, rasping out Japanese obscenities. Readying himself, Raphael threw out his hand and caught the masked man's throat, his blow crushing his larynx. As the man fell to his knees, wheezing for breath, Raphael pulled him off balance and swung a spinning foot out at his chest, throwing the now limp figure into the shadows next to the motel.

"/Tsugio, tell me you're not skipping out on duty…/"

Slipping back against the building, Raphael listened to the other man approach, his large, muscular body going unnoticed in the shadows as the man passed him, stepping into the small alley between the two buildings. When Raphael saw the man's gaze drop to his fallen comrade, the turtle made his presence known, spinning a sai out from his belt.

"/…Tsugio/"

The other masked man was silenced swiftly, a hand clasping over his mouth as an upward thrusts of Raphael's sigh punctured his chest. Raphael watched the eyes of the man scream in pain, rolling back into his head as he choked for air, coughing violently. Feeling the figure held by his sai go limp, Raphael kicked off the lifeless body and crept toward the main door, peering into the lit windows as he went.

He checked the first window, which was open about an inch; Great. He was thankful that the weather was so unbearable – it's not everyday he was given such a convenient entrance. Raphael peered in.

Nothing. An occasional blood spatter on the wall, not much else. The room was empty, lit by a single, dangling light bulb, and the door was slightly ajar, too. Raphael tucked his weapon away and opened the window, sliding in noiselessly.

The room itself was still, the low light fixture hanging above his head buzzing softly. Creeping toward the opened door, he peered out into the hall, leading to the lobby, his eyes fixing on another masked and armed guard leaning against the wall, his back to Raphael.

How easy.

Rushing toward him without making a sound, Raphael wrapped his wide palm around the man's mouth from behind, the bloody tip of his sai finding the slight valley between the guy's Adam's apple and artery and pressing in.

The person went rigid is his grip, obviously quite frightened of the green hand covering his mouth and the weapon to this throat, the katana he held dropping to the floor. Wildly, the masked man's budging, hazel eyes darted around, trying to see his attacker, but the sharp increase of pressure from the blade at his throat made him still promptly.

"/Where are they? And don't lie to me – you'll be dead before you hit the floor./"

A whimper from the man answered Raphael, a shaky hand gesturing to the other lit room. The masked person's willingness to comply somehow triggered a wave of mercy, and Raphael released him, turning his body sharply so they were facing each other, his sai still pointed roughly at the guy's neck. He slowly began to realize that person was more of a boy, than a man.

"/If I see you again or if you alert the others, I'll lodge this in your fucking eye socket. Got it/"

Backing off slowly and nodding furiously, the boy took a step back, his legs like jelly under his weight when he tripped over himself, falling back with a soft yelp. He gazed at Raphael fearfully, his eye wide as Raphael growled at him.

"/You should be running./"

Instantly, he bolted for the doors, not looking back. Raphael deliberately watched him, making sure he was well out of eyesight before turning his attention to the door the boy had pointed to. It was in the opposite hallway, on the other side of the lobby.

Cautiously, Raphael skulked into the lobby, coming up behind a man seated sleepily, his head in his arms. Smirking at how he had the element of surprise yet again, Raphael tapped the man lightly on the shoulder, causing the guy to raise his head and cough out a startled groan. Before he could turn around, Raphael ceased the man by his chin and his shoulder, pulling both abruptly, in the opposite directions, snapping his neck. The body in his hands shuddered before it fell limp, and Raphael set it down gently, the dead man's head returning to rest on his arms.

Silently approaching the other hallway, he watched the thin sliver of light coming from the bottom of the door. He heard movement behind it, and it sounded like more than a couple people, watching shadows flicker across the small band of light.

**_THUD_**.

In a flash, Raphael jumped back, the door he was reaching for flying open. Hastily side-stepping, the flaccid body that had been thrown against the door slowly fell to the ground, a blood smear following the path of his head. Raphael's whole body tense and his weapons drawn, the Turtle quickly stepped over the dead body and into the room, and his eyes opened wide.

She hadn't noticed him enter. She was attacking a man laying on his stomach, his head pinned between her knee and the hard floor, her weight on his temple while she pulled his arm straight back until it popped loudly. Raphael's eyes fell to the man she was torturing, his mouth open wide as if you cry out, but his eyes were blank; terrified as she broke his shoulder. Glancing up, Yom arced a casual eyebrow at Raphael, placing her hands on the man's dislocated shoulder and pulling his entire body toward her with a sharp jerk, a soft crack heard when she broke his neck.

"…You? How unexpected."

Raphael snorted at her, unsure what to expect as he stepped farther into the room, eyeing four other lifeless bodies in the room, beside her previous victim and the man holding the door open. Yom followed his gaze, chuckling proudly.

"Can you believe it? Only six guards. It's fuckin' insulting."

Finding himself smiling out of the blue, he shot her a questioning look. She only smiled back, her sock-sleeved wrist coming up to blot the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. His smile faded however, realizing he had only found one of them.

"…Where is she?"

"I don't know. I haven't even seen Big Brother yet. They're keeping us separated."

Raphael arced an eyebrow, curious about the name she had just mentioned.

"Your brother's here? He was captured?"

The young girl nodded once, weakly.

"I think so. I called him and told him to meet us at April's, but when we ambushed, I assumed they intercepted him and then came for us."

Yom frowned. Kneeling down and plucking a katana from one of the bodies, she shook her head, quickly changing the subject.

"You shouldn't be here. They'll kill you."

"Don't give me that condescending bullshit, a'right? I know the risk."

Her eyes narrowed at him, obviously unhappy with his tone. Flicking the tip of the katana toward one of the walls, she decorated it's eggshell color with loud spots of fresh blood, her fingers running along the length of the sharp blade to wipe off the remainder of the red fluid.

"They why did you take it? We don't _need_ your pity. We can handle ourselves."

Damnit. She's singing the same song her sister had.

"I can tell. So, getting captured – that was part of your plan, right?"

The venom in her glare was quite apparent. Leaning down to grab a discarded sheath, she threw it over her shoulder, the katana in her hand find a place to rest in the scabbard now across her back. Stepping close to him, she jabbed a finger at the top of his plastron as she spoke.

"Listen, buddy. I don't trust you. And the only reason I'm even humoring you right now is because my sister does. So don't try to get cute with me – I can drop you when you least expect it."

Her threat amused Raphael more than it intimidated him – how cocky of her. He knew he could handle himself. If anything, she'll have to keep up with him. Grinning at her, he twirled his sais before sheathing them.

"I'll try to keep that in mind."

He gestured toward the door, still smirking at her angry gaze.

"Ladies first."

Knocking his shoulder roughly as she walked by, Raphael's breath caught when he took a step back to catch his balance, Yom's subtle blow was much stronger than he had anticipated. He darted his eyes up in time to catch a glimpse of her steady glare but smirking lips, snarling at the back of her head when she turned around.

Slipping out into the dimly lit hallway, Yom led the way, her stealthy approach going completely unnoticed as she came up silently behind another guard, her katana blade slipping effortlessly into the masked man's abdomen before sliding back out quickly, severing his head with one smooth slice moments later. Blood sprayed the floor and walls in front of the fallen ward, the limp body slowly falling to its' knees before hitting the floor, the head rolling to a slow stop only inches away. Raphael grimaced at the dead body, and then at Yom, who again wiped her blade clean with two fingers. She seemed quite satisfied with what just happened, stealing the man's walkie-talkie.

"Like a hot knife through soft butter..."

Raphael growled lowly and trotted off further down the hallway, peeking around the corner for anymore enemies.

Her analogy was sick. Correct, but sick.

Sensing nothing but emptiness in the corridor before him, he motioned for Yom to join him, the radical Japanese soldier once again taking the lead. Raphael followed quietly behind her, glancing over his soldier when he felt it necessary, his adrenaline beginning to flow as the silent suspense built up.

Reaching the end of another hallway, Yom froze and sunk back against wall, gliding along its' flower embellished body before slipping in to a small room at the end of the short corridor. Following cautiously, Raphael closed the door behind him half-way before hiding behind it, his eyes then going to search for his accomplice in the dark. He caught a glimpse of her figure moving toward the window on the other side of the room, on her hands and knees, the blinds drawn but opened part-way. The lines of light peeking through lit only Yom's eyes and lips, the rest stretching across the length of the empty room, which appeared to be an office of some sort. Raphael let a quiet moment pass, before he spoke, being sure to whisper.

"What now?"

Much to his distaste, he wasn't answered, Yom still looking silently through the window, her eyes narrowed and focused. Rolling his shoulders back, Raphael eyed her sourly, deciding to take this time to mentally retrace his steps. The motel complex apparently was in the shape a giant "G", and from what he could tell, they were in the "mouth" of it, the office at the end. Stepping carefully over to peer out the window, Raphael saw a wide cement patio with a large swimming pool, it's empty, square body being patrolled by a two dozen masked men. Inside the pool, however, is what seemed to draw his attention, for several other masked men were huddled around a chair, in the deep end, with a small woman tied to it. Eyes wide, Raphael's breath caught when he saw her, flinching when a nearby guard threw a fist at her face, causing her head to twist violently to the side, blood escaping her quivering lips.

Raphael went rigid, rage flushing his face and his knuckles cracking softly as he tightened his fists, forcing himself to close his eyes. Raphael couldn't remember a time when he felt so angry. The thumping of his racing heart boomed in his head, and swallowing hard, he tried to stop it, slowly opening his eyes so he could see again. He had to watch, had to learn as much as possible before he attacked – even if killed him to watch it.

A large man dressed in an all-white suit had their back to them, facing the chair Yin was tied to, his legs crossed and a cane across his lap. Beside him, a tall, more lean-looking man stood, also facing Yin, his body only covered by baggy, black slacks and black mask, a katana slung comfortably across his back.

About a dozen guards circled both men and the girl, each taking a turn to hit her. Raphael silently wished he could hear what was being said, seeing mouths move, but knew if he even tried to get closer he'd be caught. So, chewing his lower lip viciously, he watched as the men crowding around her backed away, one guard cutting the restraints around her chest, wrists, and ankles before pulling the chair out from under her, the bruised and bleeding Japanese girl spilling roughly to the floor. Two guards then scooped her up by her underarms, throwing her into the wall face first and holding her against it, her weak thrashing only earning another abrupt punch from one of the guards.

Tensing again, Raphael breathed thickly through his nose. It took all his strength to keep from crashing through that window and killing every single one of those assholes. Exhaling slowly to try and calm down, Raphael slowly spun around, heading toward the exit and ready to face almost forty armed men.

A small but firm hand to his arm stopped him, however, the Turtle's burning gaze falling to Yom, who was kneeling in front of the window. Immediately his anger turned to compassion when their eyes met, seeing tear-glistening eyes stare back at him, her hand finding his and squeezing hard. It took a few moments, but eventually she spoke. It was barely above a whisper, but she spoke.

"We have to wait."

"…_What_?"

"If we go after her now, they'll kill her. And Big Brother, where-ever he is. Do you want that?"

Her voice was stern, but it was forced and hollow. As one of her glossy tears escaped an eye, she turned back to the window and watched stoically, her voice refusing to come out when she opened her mouth again, her words a cracked and husky whisper.

"We have to wait…"

Raphael noticed that her hand that he held in his was white knuckled, her grip steady and secure on him. He didn't like what she had to say, but trusted her judgment. There were a lot of armed guards out there, and he didn't know how skilled they were in their fighting craft. Leaning an arm out to support his weight, Raphael resumed his observation of the movement outside, struggling to sit still.

She was openly crying now. Before, when Raphael had first begun watching, she was tearing, but remained emotionless. Now, however, her face was positioned in the familiar expression of loud sobbing. The emptiness in Raphael's stomach turned savagely when his ears picked up on her soft cries, his teeth gritted. The guards had managed to wrestle the upper half of her green gown off of her body, the only thing covering her creamy skin now being a black bra.

The masked man who had been waiting quietly beside the huge, suited man now stepped forward, forcing her legs apart while the other two wards from before held her securely against the wall, her cheek pressed up against the pool's cement wall. Panic quickly rose in Raphael's chest when he saw the shirtless man unbuckle his pants, roughly pushing up the long, slit skirt to expose Yin's lower half, her panties brutally torn from her body.

Almost choking on a sob, Raphael looked away when Yin cried out loud, the sound piercing his ears even though she was a good distance away. His thick body trembled violently from both rage and fear as he went for the door that led out to the pool beside him, the hand holding tightly to his stopping him again.

"Raphael, NO."

Furiously, Raphael wretched his hand from hers, glaring at her in disbelief. He whispered harshly, trying not to yell.

"No, fuck you! They'll—"

His voice caught midway in his throat when he thought about it, his eyes glazing over with bitter tears, pacing the room's short length angrily, bringing his hands up to his face to rub the threatening tears away. Yom spoke up again.

"Raphael, I know! But if we go out there, they'll kill her with out a second thought!"

Her whispers were more like raspy yelling, her red eyes pooling with angry tears. Raphael quickly found his voice again.

"_Jesus Christ_, Yom! They're _raping_ her out there! What the _fuck_ am I s'pposed to do!"

Still laced with blurry, hot tears, Yom's eyes searched his. Raphael watched her mentally skim over her options briefly. Sniffing once and wiping her nose, with the back of her hand, she reached into one of her huge pockets and pulled out a walkie-talkie, throwing it roughly at Raphael.

"Say there's an intruder on the grounds and several guards are down."

Raphael blinked at her, grimacing on confusion. What is she saying? _Tell_ the enemy and ruin the ambush? He growled out at her.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me!"

"No, God-damnit, now do it!"

Her tear-shined eyes bore into his dangerously, and reluctantly he brought the receiver to his lips, glancing out the window at his struggling friend before pressing the transmit button.

"/Calling whoever hears this first: we've located an intruder in the area and we believe it to be extremely hostile, repeat, _extremely_ hostile. Several guards are down in the lobby, and back-up is needed. ASAP./"

Letting the anger fuel him, the excitement and adrenaline rushed Raphael's vocal chords, making his fake transmission sound urgent. Clicking off the transmit button, both he and Yom turned to the window, watching as everyone of the guards outside freeze and pick up their walkie-talkies, several of them answering the distress call at the same time, making the response he heard through his receiver choppy and full of static.

Much to Raphael's surprise, the guards assisting and participating in the rape stopped and collected their weapons, the violated and weak Japanese girl being strapped down to the chair once again before half of them took off toward the lobby, in the opposite direction.

Raphael shot a sideways glance down at Yom, seeing her stare solemnly out at her sister. Placing a wide hand on her slender shoulder, Raphael squeezed gently, showing his gratitude.

"Let's go."

Yom answered him by getting to her feet, pulling off her pink-striped arm-warmers and unsheathing her katana, the tears in her eyes now replaced with focus, determination, and rage.

She took several steps back from the door, holding out a hand so they both could see, three of her slender fingers sticking up.

Pulling his weapons free from his belt, Raphael's eyes connected with hers and he nodded, turning to the window he planned on crashing into, his thick brow knitting together in anger. Not one will leave here alive.

The fingers Yom held out began disappearing. One…two…three!

They burst through the room simultaneously, Yom through the door and Raphael through the window, drawing all attention. The fours guards situated around Yin, the taller, shirtless ward, and the large, white-suited man stayed in place, but all the rest rushed toward the Turtle and the radical Japanese girl. Back to back, both ninjas readied their stance for the attack, one guard instantly falling under their weapons. Two more followed, but were more difficult to subdue.

Raphael, as he sent a stiffened foot out at an attackers head, quickly glanced over to Yin, who had struggled wildly against her restraints, her eyes intense and pleading, her mouth covered by a dirty rope. Anger igniting in him once again, Raphael ran the length of his blade through another attackers skull after the first fell, feeling hot blood spray his hand. His other hand snaked out to strike a guard coming from his other side, the blunt of his sai breaking the man's jaw before it spun nimbly in his three fingers and sliced the man's throat, more blood misting Raphael. It wasn't until another guard was practically on top of him that Raphael sensed the danger on his opposite side, but a katana swipe to the man's belly quieted Raphael's internal alarm. Tugging his weapons free from his two previous victims, Raphael whispered out hastily, catching Yom's eye.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Raphael heard Yom silence another guard before a loud booming voice was heard, causing all of the wards to back off and retreat to a safe distance away, still ready and willing to fight.

It was then that the suited man stood, his cane finding the ground beside him, his massive body sauntering out of the empty pool's deep end and up to ground level, standing behind his many guards. Behind him, the wards who went off to answer Raphael's fake distress call now joined the others, out-numbering the Turtle and the girl by twenty-to-one.

"/Yom…/"

The thunderous voice of the large man echoed in the night, mocking and arrogant. Immediately Raphael recognized who was speaking, the memory of the first time he met Yin coming to mind – he was the large soldier from the parking lot.

"/…your choice in friends is rather disgusting./"

Bristling at the insult, Raphael growled loudly, baring his teeth at the huge man, who only smiled back, waving a wide hand at the Turtle. Raphael wished he had a throwing star right now, so he could chuck it right between that guys ugly, beady little eyes. Having nothing but his sais, however, Raphael settled for an insult.

"Shut your fuckin' mouth, dickhead."

A chuckle answered Raphael, the large man raising his cane up and admiring the large ruby on the end, changing his dialect from Japanese to English.

"The name's Shiramoto, actually. And I should thank you – when you killed my superior, I was promoted to his position."

"Yea? Well, don't get too comfortable tubby; you're gonna join him real soon."

The rage buzzing under the surface of Raphael's skin started to create goose bumps when he heard Shiramoto utter that stupid chuckle again. Raphael felt the grip on his sais tighten, the leather binding now starting to dig into his palms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yom take a menacing step forward, her face contoured into a look of pure hatred as she bellowed out.

"/Enough of this foolishness, Shiramoto/"

Yom's demand appeared to have caught the arrogant Shiramoto off-guard, for he scowled dangerously at her, tensing at her voice. Languidly, he shrugged off his tension, his ugly lips curling into a smile that was anything but pleasant.

"/What's the matter Yom? Too impatient? You'll join your sister soon enough. Or…perhaps I should let you watch her die./"

"/Bastard! You won't be alive long enough to do it/"

The threat she shouted out only incited a fit of malicious laughter from the well-suited Shiramoto, one of his hands reaching up to beckon the tall ward behind him. The shirtless guard, who had been the ring-leader of the gang rape, slowly stepped forward, dragging the old chair that Yin was tied to behind him. Spinning the chair forward and into position in front of him with a finesse that seemed inhuman, the soldier then produced a throwing star from his belt, lowering it and gliding his finger tip idly along his captive's neck, insinuating his plans.

Raphael's eyes went wide and he tightened every muscle in his body, beginning to tremble with rage.

How **_dare_** they.

He will make them suffer if they give her anymore pain. Raphael breathed heavily through his teeth, hissing softly, his heart pounding – if they touch her now, he will kill them all. Slowly. _Torturously_. He wanted to cry out, scream and swear at the enemy, but his voice failed him, his forehead now adorned with several tight, pulsing veins.

Yom voiced his thoughts for him.

"/You fucking monster! Let her go! And tell me where you're keeping Big Brother/"

That same pompous chuckle the suited man seemed to enjoy was heard again, his small, gray eyes connecting with the eyes of his masked accomplice, that snake-like grin spreading wide.

"/You really are naïve, Yom….and much too trusting for your own good./"

The masked man removed the throwing star and affectionately caressed the soft flesh of Yin's neck with his thumb, reaching his other hand up to pull off his mask. He looked to be in his mid-twenties; His dark, burgundy hair streaked black while his eyes glowed an eerie yellow, sparkling with excitement, lust, and insanity. A scar fell down his forehead and across his temple, stopping at the corner of his left eye, pulling the skin of it slightly away from the eyeball. A familiar tattoo adorned the man's muscular neck, weaving it's way down to where his shoulders and collar bone connected.

Raphael furrowed his red brow; He didn't recognize him. Turning to Yom, he froze though, for the look of horror on her face was too alarming to ignore. Her mouth hung open, dumbstruck, and tears immediately fell freely from her eyes, streaming brightly down her blood spattered face.

"/No…/"

Looking back to the new enemy, Raphael saw the girl in his dirty grasp shake violently, tears now rolling down Yin's rosy and bruised cheeks, her eyes closed tight. Raphael heard the person beside him whimper, hearing her fall to her knees and murmur a name.

"/Hukai. Big Brother…_no_…/"


	10. Dead Meat

**Author's Note:** OMG, it's been forever:0! I don't know how many times I'ce changed this chapter, or switched it around...and finally it's sitting the right way! And I can't believe it - I'm almost done! XD! Thanks for being patient guys, really, and lemme know if I have any grammatical/spelling errors. Please enjoy!

**Rating:** R, for language, violence, mild gore, and innuendo.

Chapter Eight: Dead Meat

The atmosphere around Raphael seemed to pulse with energy and emotion, the armed thugs around him beginning to blend in with the back background. Only the white-suited Shiramoto and shirtless Hukai stood out from his surroundings, each glowing in an almost evil aura. Raphael couldn't help to cringe when he heard that arrogant, menacing laughter again, his narrowed eyes glaring at Shiramoto.

"((What's the matter, Yom? Did he fool you? Did you actually think you could win?))"

Lumbering over to Hukai, who was about shoulder-level to him and much thinner, Shiramoto rested a massive hand on his inferior's shoulder, giving the weeping Yom another cruel grin.

"((He's not your Big Brother anymore, sweetheart. He's my assassin. He was hard to break, I admit; but after the operation, he found his proper path.))"

Still on her knees, fighting the emotions that begged to break her control, Yom raised her head up, her tear-glossed eyes widening in question. Giving her a sideways glance, Raphael pondered the same thing, his dark eyes tracing the stitched scar on Hukai's temple while Yom finally managed a response.

"((…Operation?))"

"((Why, yes. You see, I sent him off to surgery, and told the doctors to remove part of the frontal lobe. You'd be surprised how obedient one can get after that little piece of grey matter is taken out. Especially when you've shown them their correct purpose.))"

With almost a howl Yom leapt to her feet, growling out at Shiramoto through her bared teeth, her fist held out at him and clenched tightly. Taking a step forward and away from Raphael, her body shook with determination, her eyes a blazed.

"((You fucking monster! You mutilated him, brainwashed him!))"

His mask-clad eyes burning in building anger, Raphael watched both men exchange humored glances, Shiramoto sauntering forward boldly, stepping in front of his armed guards and resting half of his weight on his cane.

"((You didn't seem notice before, did you Yom. You came to the America's with him, you stayed with him, confided in him…all while he was working for me…))"

Raphael didn't like how comfortable he was so close to them; He was too proud for being a big, fat pompous _ass_. His eyes darting to his comrade, Raphael noticed that Yom's entire body tensed at Shiramoto's approach. Her bloodied sword was held out tightly in her hands, the tip following the direction that her enemy was moving in. After pushing his way through his wards, Shiramoto stopped, faking a look of contemplation while he threw a glance at Yom, a small grin on his thin, pale lips.

"((…You even let him touch you, didn't you?))"

His beady eyes swept over Yom and his lips pulled back further in an ugly, conceited smile. Shiramoto's words slowly began to sink into Raphael's skull, and he managed a brief glance at Yom, her back to the Turtle. She remained silent, but her body was rigid; her head down and arms stiffly at her sides. Raphael offered a quick glance at Yin, watching as tears cut a watery path through the drying blood on her cheeks, the silent Hukai still stroking her in his demented way. His insides twisted violently and he immediately looked away, the sickness in his stomach slowly turning into anger. With narrowed eyes he turned to Shiramoto, who was continuing to droll on.

"((He didn't just touch you. He _took_ you, and you let him do it. You let him fuck you, didn't you? You let my brand new assassin fuck yo—))"

"_Shiramoto_…"

Yom spoke loudly and evenly. As Raphael watched a stray droplet of blood trickle from her katana, his brain played over the weight of her tone. Stoic. Deadly. Her body screamed it even while she stood perfectly still, and it seemed the pompous Shiramoto hadn't noticed – he grimaced at her interruption like a parent at a child. She slowly raised her head to speak again, her ruby eyes no longer fiery, but filled with a strange, empty calm. The connected with Yin's briefly, and after a short silence she spoke again, her tone perilous.

"…You're dead right now. You just don't know it yet."

She spoke in English. Deliberately.

Raphael was grinning. A surge of adrenaline spread the dangerous smile across his lips and he stepped forward, to Yom's side, waiting with weapons drawn. His gaze burned into Shiramoto – it was about time to shut his fuckin' mouth.

"((What was that?))"

Shiramoto's voice boomed impatiently, showing his distaste for her dialect shift. His thick brow furrowed over his tiny eyes, and Raphael's heart roared in his chest with anticipation of the oncoming battle. He decided to speak up.

"You heard the lady: yer fuckin' dead meat."

Shiramoto cupped his large belly and threw his head back, the night around them booming with his hideous laughter. His loud chortle ended abruptly when his head snapped forward, and his eyes danced with his growing insanity.

"((You're out-numbered, fools. Do you really think you have a chance?))"

Shadows dancing silently across the rooftops and along the walls caught Raphael's attention momentarily, the familiar shapes and movements alerting him that the odds were about to shift in his favor. A slight shift in Yom's stance told him she had noticed as well.

"I think you talk too much!"

With an almost feral cry and perfect timing, Raphael and Yom both darted swiftly toward the crowd of men. From three different parts of the motel, Raphael's brother's leapt out, a shower of throwing stars shooting from their three-fingered hands and into the crowd of thugs. Wails of surprise and pain echoed into the night, and with delight Raphael barreled into Shiramoto, who was roaring and pulling two stars out of his round shoulder. Yom had already cut her way further into the mob, nearing her sister, while the horde of masked men surrounding Shiramoto disappeared to fight the newest intruders.

Only one man stood between Raphael and his giant enemy. To the Turtles' surprise, it was Shiramoto who dropped the man, his massive hand swinging out and concaving his masked head with a small crunch as he lumbered toward Raphael, his eyes burning. Pulling the top of his cane, Shiramoto revealed a katana inside it, and in a split second it was slicing at Raphael's neck. A quick dodge back saved the Turtle for only a moment before Shiramoto's blade came at him again and again, the _tinge_ of Raphael's sais stopping the sharp edge from severing anything.

As the battle progressed, Raphael soon noticed that for a big man that had fresh wounds, Shiramoto was _incredibly_ fast. He thrusted his blade at the Turtles' middle before spinning, slicing at neck level, growling when Raphael dodged and ducked each strike. His advances kept pushing Raphael to step back further and further, and rage was now beginning to course through Raphael's body, along side the adrenaline. From the left another ward charged Raphael, howling, and with a throaty growl he spun and lodged his sai into the man's chest from behind. He then had just enough time to duck as Shiramoto swung his blade at his head, the heavy man's eyes still dancing wildly inside his head. His wild rage was beginning to make him careless, and with a vocal heave Raphael threw the guards' body, still impaled on his sai, at Shiramoto. The body crumpled against the large man's body like paper, and with veins popping out of his head and neck, Shiramoto lurched at Raphael again, swinging wildly.

Having only one sai now, Raphael struggled to avoid the sharp edge of the katana as he fought back. He had only seconds to block the sword from slicing his thigh before Shiramoto's threw his knee into Raphael's middle, knocking the Turtle back and out of breath. His katanas' blade then found the flesh of Raphael's forearm as the Turtle swung against it to protect his head, the timing for sword and sai to meet only a second off. The pain registered only after Raphael spun and sent Shiramoto stumbling backward with a powerful kick to the gut, his hot blood stinging his skin as it spilled over the ground. Through tightly gritted teeth Raphael hissed an obscenity, knowing from the way the laceration burned that blood was escaping him in hurried spurts.

"/You stupid _freak_/"

Raphael's eyes darted to the large man trudging heavily toward him. Shiramoto had dropped the katana and came at him with his massive hands, his face red and teeth bared with blind rage. Using this opportunity, Raphael met him half way and threw his sai into Shiramoto's neck with all his strength, just as a huge fist struck him across the mouth, splitting the side of his lip. Spitting the blood rushing his mouth all over Shiramoto's face, Raphael watched as the large man curled his lip wildly and then suddenly closed his hands around Raphael's neck.

Panicked, Raphael struggled for a moment before toppling over on to his back, gasping and clawing at the tight grip of Shiramoto as the heavy man fell on him. The sweaty paws around Raphael's neck held on tightly, despite the green fingernails dug into the flesh, and with bloodshot eyes the Turtle glared up at Shiramoto, seeing the insanity and rage sparkle in his beady grey ones. Shiramoto's breath was hot and rancid and he wheezed in and out, and the stench burned Raphael's nostrils when he struggled to speak.

"Freak…DIE…die…"

Strength and alertness was leaving his body fast, and the darkness that was trying to sneak it's way across his vision was quickening it's pace. Shiramoto's large body made it impossible for Raphael to reach passed his bugling biceps, and his legs were pinned under his massive weight. Fear now ignited inside the Turtle, and with a gurgled moan he claws desperately at his attackers hands. He was frantic.

He was helpless, and he was going to die. With regret…and without being able to tell her—

With a yank that jerked both the Turtle and Shiramoto, a familiar hand pulled his sai free from his attacker's neck. Blood sprayed the Turtle's face in periodic throbs, the smell and feel making the blackness sweep across his eyes completely. The grip on Raphael's windpipe began to weaken however, and it wasn't long before that same blackness retreated slowly. Gasping hoarsely for the air that he so desperately needed, Raphael was pulled out from under the dying Shiramoto, and out of the fading fear and panic he writhed wildly. A familiar voice, attached to the arms that had dragged him free, spoke quickly but softly. Soothingly.

"It's okay Raph, It's okay – relax. It's Leo, Raph. It's _okay_. It's OKAY."

Blinking furiously to rid his sight of the blackness, his eyes connected with his brother. Wheezing loudly and cupping his throat, Raphael scrambled back several paces, his eyes darting back to the fallen Shiramoto. His huge body was slumped awkwardly to the side, and the rage shining in Shiramoto's eyes had faded into a dull and lifeless glare.

"Raph – RELAX. He's dead. It's okay, you're okay. My God, you gotta relax so you don't _bleed_ to death."

His brother bent down to his level, pulling the mask off Raphael's head. The bandana was then wrapped around his forearm until it was painfully tight, and slowly Raphael realized that he was bleeding still.

"I'm fine, Leo. Leggo…"

His voice came out in a strained whisper, and the vocal chords he had just used buzzed with pain. He jerked away from his brother's grasp, and ignoring the click of irritation that came from Leonardo, Raphael's stumbled to his feet.

"I'm fine…"

That was SUCH a lie. His head spun in huge, sloppy loops as he forced himself to walk, and his body was incredibly weak. He managed to spot the rest of his brothers, and with almost determination only he sauntered toward them. Leonardo was close at his side.

"Slow down Raphael! You can barely stand, let alone walk!"

"I said I'm fuckin' fine!"

He squeaked loudly and rawly, dropping down to a fallen ward. He plucked up his missing sai, embedded still in his back, and then carried on, holstering it. Giving his head a vigorous shake, he focused on running, his destination where Donatello and Michelangelo were.

It was also were Yin and Yom were. And Hukai.

As he neared he realized Yom was in a heated battle with Hukai, and by the way the sweat glistened off both of them, he assumed it had been a long one. Yin was slowly being freed by Michelangelo. A rock seemed to drop right into Raphael's stomach as he neared her, and thought of scooping her up and never letting go seemed the most logical thing to do at that moment. Instead, as he neared the group, Donatello was trotted over with what looked like a slight limp.

"We gotta go guys, NOW. April gave us ten minutes before she called the cops here, and it's been ten minutes two minutes ago. The police are already out front."

Leonardo, who was nursing a gash across his face Raphael realized, nodded once before he spoke.

"We gotta get Yom away from him. It doesn't matter how. There's no time for settling scores."

Before Leonardo had a chance to exhale after he spoke, a blur of green and blue flew by noiselessly and drew Raphael's attention. His eyes widened as he realized who it was, and it wasn't long before his other brothers' noticed. Yin, who was supposed to be with Michelangelo, darted toward the battle between her sister and Hukai, Donatello's bo in her grasp.

"Shit!"

Leonardo took off after the sisters, his katana already drawn. He called out to Raphael and Donatello, who were following close behind him. Donatello more than Raphael – Raphael's body was still fighting with his will power. Michelangelo joined them soon after.

"Grab them! We need to get them and go – I'll deal with Hukai in the mean time."

The dance of ninjitsu between Yin, Yom, and Hukai was quick and intense, but Leonardo slipped between them flawlessly, his skill and experience guiding the way. The split second pause that followed was enough for Raphael to pull Yin off balance and into his arms. She struggled against him to get free and continue attacking, and if it wasn't for the extra one-hundred pounds Raphael had to anchor him, she would have gotten away. The sound of Yom struggling with Donatello was enough to tell Raphael that she was taken care of, and with a resolute effort he steered Yin toward the docks at the other end of the hotel, his brother Michelangelo only footsteps behind him.

"Let go! Let go of me, I must stop him!"

Drawing in a ragged breath Raphael rasped at her, trying to keep hold of her and pull her toward the water. Michelangelo was already half-way under the docks.

"It's too late. The police are here, and we gotta get the hell outta here! They'l—"

"NO! He _must_ pay!"

The last bit of strength Raphael was nursing wanted to expire, but with grunt her summoned more, yanking her in close.

"God damnit Yin!"

She stilled when their bodies connected, his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders. He squeezed his eyes shut; his throat screamed in pain from his continuing forced speech, but that wasn't the reason why tears dotted the corner of his eyes. He drew in a measured breath, swallowing thickly before he whispered.

"I can't loose you again. Not again."

Raphael let go of her enough to see her face. She blinked slowly at him, seeming to almost measure his words. She opened her mouth slowly, hesitating before she spoke.

"I can—"

"NO!"

Both Raphael and Yin jerked their attention to where the wail sounded, seeing Yom break free from Donatello's grasp. She dashed toward Hukai, who was in an intense exchange of katanas with Leonardo. Her legs carried her hastily across the grounds, and as she neared the battle she scooped up a fallen katana and leapt into the air. She looked to have cleared almost six feet in that bound, and just as she landed Hukai spun and to strike her, his katana swipe aimed toward her head.

She spun and dropped.

"Yom, NO!"

Yin cried out and lurched against Raphael's arms, her eyes panicked. Time throbbed to a stand still, the air around them silent. Raphael gaped at what had happened, unbelieving.

Yom had dropped one knee, her hands held out straight on either side of her. Her katana was straight and motionless in her hand…and dripping with blood. It was then Hukai who fell to the ground.

In pieces.

Yom righted herself, kicking away one of Hukai's legs. She had sliced him across the knees, separating the man from his lower legs. Dropping the katana calmly, Yom then spit on Hukai.

"Enjoy your death. I hope it's slow…"

Raphael could barely hear her speak, but knew the jist of what she was saying. He watched Leonardo immediately tugged Yom into his grasp, hurrying towards them. They all dropped down into the waters under the docks just as a whirring helicopter neared the hotel, spotlight on. Just as speed boats with loud sirens and bright lights pulled in.

"This is the Police! We have the hotel surrounded! Surrender NOW!"

Slipping into a sewer tunnel that connected to the shore, the Turtles and girls moved silently. Leonardo led the way, with Yom between Michelangelo and Donatello. She didn't need to be restrained anymore. Raphael was at the rear, one of his arms slung over Yin's shoulder. It was difficult for him to walk, and he struggled to keep as much of his weight off Yin's tiny body.

After several moments of quiet, Yin adjusted her grip in him. She leaned her head in, and her lips pressed into the place where his ears were hidden.

"Thank you…"

He squeezed her body back in response, closing his eyes at the sound and feel of her soft words against him. His body was screaming in pain and exhaustion, but somehow her touch made the ache not as bad. Somehow, the rage that was tearing his insides every which-way came to slowing stand-still…just from that touch.

God damn – he missed his bed.


End file.
